


Learning to Count

by ifangirloverthese



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anorexia, Anorexia au, Anorexic, BoyxBoy, Depression, Eating Disorders, Gay, LGBT, M/M, Mental Illness, Self Harm, Suicide, Yaoi, lgbtqia, mental health, self injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifangirloverthese/pseuds/ifangirloverthese
Summary: 'I count everything. Calories eaten, calories burnt, weight, my clothes size, the width of my waist... I guess you could say I'm just number orientated.'





	1. Chapter 1

This story will, obviously, deal with anorexia. As somebody who suffered at the hands of this horrific, torturous disease for three years, this is a subject very close to my head and it will be accurate to my experience.   
This is not to say that it is an absolute, specific depiction, as anorexia can take many different forms. With that in mind, please exercise caution reading ahead if you may be susceptible to upset over the topic.   
Please do not attempt any of the actions described in this book, as it is a brutal and often fatal sickness. Also, don't you dare romanticise it. I will probably track you down and throw you out of several windows.   
I will not spare any details, nor will I romanticise it. This is what living with chronic anorexia was truly like for me, as I will be drawing from my experiences. Unfortunately, I didn't have my very own supportive Otabek; I got myself out of it alone. This is kind of an ode to my struggles and how proud I am of my recovery. Here's to health and happiness!   
Now, dear reader, should you be mentally stoic enough to do so, read ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

Otabek had never been to a hospital before. He hadn't meant to end up where he did, but the corridors all looked the same and he hadn't been concentrating on the signs, his mind too clouded by worry over his grandmother, who had just undergone hip replacement surgery. Somehow, he'd ended up in the wrong wing and a nurse had taken him for a visitor and sent him to a waiting room. He had been too surprised to explain what was happening, and besides- it was slightly humiliating to admit that he was lost when, at the age of nineteen, he should have been able to navigate the place perfectly well. He was waiting for the nurse to leave so he could make his escape, but for the past five minutes she had been talking to a confused looking elderly woman with several catheters and what-have-you protruding from underneath her hospital regulation garbs.   
He had ended up sat across from a blond boy with a dour scowl and a bitter look on his face. Said boy was currently having an argument with the tired-looking woman sat next to him, who Otabek assumed was his mother.   
'I'm fine!' He was insisting, swinging his legs erratically. Otabek duly noted that they were short enough that they barely brushed against the floor, although they made an invasive squeaking noise when they did. He couldn't have been older than sixteen, but he was so petit that he had the appearance of somebody much younger. He would have, anyway, had it not been for the attitude exuding from his every pore.   
'Well, the doctor says you're not,' His mother sighed, digging through her handbag for something or other. The dark mulberry leather was worn away and the straps had more loose threads than secure ones. She rifled through it a little longer before pulling out what looked to be a cereal bar or some similar nutriment. She attempted to hand it to the boy, but he snubbed it and inched away from her. Otabek watched on with curiosity as she continued to persuade him into taking it, but he was stubborn and point blank refused to do such a thing. Suddenly, the boy looked up and met his observatory eyes.   
'The hell are you looking at?' His voice was clear and cutting, harsh as the edge of a knife. Even sharper was his gaze; it was serrating and Otabek felt pinned by them, like he was a laboratory specimen. He couldn't summon any words forth, instead just gawping uselessly like a fish.   
'Yuri!' The woman scolded him, and he rolled his eyes. He looked like he was about to speak further when the nurse that had caused Otabek all this grief called out a name, and the boy promptly stood up and followed her with a brisk pace. Otabek sighed with relief, at last able to return to his family.   
His grandmother seemed well and rested, so after sitting with her for half an hour and listening to her prattle on about this and that and what it was like in her day he grew tired and told his parents he was getting a coffee.   
'Oh, be a dear and get me one love, will you?' His mother asked, but it wasn't really a question. He nodded drearily and shuffled down to the cafe, purchasing some particularly miserable coffees and setting them down to put some milk in his own. He had this theory that hospital coffee was legally required to be tragic or it wouldn't fit the atmosphere of the place. After all, who wanted to stand around and remark, 'Damn, that's some good coffee!' when their child is dying of a terminal illness? He knew he wouldn't... He set the lid back on his coffee and began to walk back to his grandmother, hoping he would find his way correctly this time round. As he walked, he noticed a sign talking about an outbreak of Zika virus somewhere, and he was so distracted by it that seconds later his body was halted in its tracks by something solid. At first, he was shocked and didn't register what it was. Then he felt the boiling hot coffee spilling down his chest and all over whoever he had walked headlong into and he snapped out of it.   
'Crap!' He gasped, slamming the cups down on a table and grabbing some napkins to mop himself up. Then he turned his attentions to the person he had accidentally scalded. At least they were in a hospital, right? He was startled to see that it was the blond boy from earlier, and he certainly looked less than impressed. He was tugging at the front of his shirt, muttering acrimonious things and cursing blindly. He too had been carrying a hot drink, which had also been spilt down his front.   
'God, I am so sorry,' Otabek gabbled, pressing some napkins into his hands and dabbing at his shirt helplessly. 'I'll buy you another drink, sorry, God... I'm so-'  
'It's fine,' The boy muttered. 'It was only tea.'   
'Please, I insist. Oh, you're soaking wet too!' Otabek felt awful, never having encountered this kind of straight-out-of-romance-movies situation before. 'Tea, did you say?'   
He ordered a tea, and all the while the boy stood next to him in a stony silence.   
'Milk's just round the corner,' The barista informed Otabek, as if he hadn't ordered two coffees less than thirty seconds ago. He supposed a lot of people came and went and she wouldn't bother herself with recalling faces.   
'Here,' He gave the boy the piping hot styrofoam cup. 'It's Yuri, isn't it?' He was surprised he remembered since he'd only heard it in passing conversation, but it was an interesting name and therefore it had lodged itself into his mind obstinately.   
'Yeah,' Yuri mumbled, his hands wrapping round the cup. Otabek noticed how strained the skin was over his knuckles, how harshly protrudent the tendons were. 'You didn't have to buy me this.'  
'It's okay. Are you here visiting someone?' Otabek wasn't especially eager to get back to the stifling room where his grandmother and parents were making awkward conversation, so he decided to interest himself with talking to Yuri.   
'I'm a patient,' Yuri said this quietly, his voice lower than what you'd expect for somebody of his age and size.   
'Oh. Sorry.'  
'Why?'  
'Sorry?'  
'Why are you sorry?'  
'I- I don't know,' Otabek frowned. This kid sure was an odd one... 'If it's not rude to ask, what for?'  
'Huh. You tell me,' Yuri scoffed. 'My mum's just convinced I'm sick, so hell if I know.'  
'But you're not?'  
'No. At least, I don't think so. I feel fine.'  
'Then what's the deal?'  
'Nothing.'  
Otabek thought about the conversation he'd heard and how adamant his mother had been that he was disease-ridden, that he was going to die soon. He thought that it seemed a very precarious relationship and felt sorry for Yuri for having to go through that. He looked up and realised he didn't recognise the corridor they were on. In fact, it didn't even look like the same ward.   
They had continued to wander down the corridors without aim, meaning Otabek was lost in a hospital for the second time that day, and all in the space of no more than an hour. He wasn't sure whether he ought to say something, because maybe Yuri was going somewhere and he'd just ended up tagging along- perhaps Yuri hadn't intended for him to join him on this escapade, and he was imposing.   
'Do you actually have any idea where we are?' Yuri turned to him, and he tried not to sigh visibly in his relief.   
'Uhh, no,' He looked about himself for a moment to decipher any available signs, but there were none.   
'Where are you meant to be?'   
'Magnolia wing, I think.'  
Yuri made a soft humming noise in his throat, tipping his head back and looking up at the colourless fluorescent lights as if they could give him directions. A nurse bustled past and he jumped to cover his face, which confused Otabek. This was succeeded by several other incidents like it until Otabek could stand the bemusing nature of it no longer. He inquired as to what was going on, but before he could get an answer, a doctor came striding down the corridor talking to several nurses whose name labels revealed that they were from the psych unit. Yuri grabbed Otabek by the sleeve and tugged him into a room somewhere behind them, slamming the door behind them and breathing hard. It was only once they'd passed did Otabek dare to breathe, second hand panic forbidding him from it before.   
'Sorry, do I know you?' A middle aged man was sat behind them getting his leg rebandaged by a doctor.   
'Oh, sorry,' Yuri apologised and they darted back out into the corridor.   
'What was that?' Otabek addressed him firmly, not ready to be an accomplice in whatever was occurring with this strange boy.   
'I might be deviating from my mother,' He shrugged nonchalantly. 'She pissed me off and I didn't want to hang around, so... She always tell the doctors I'm high risk and makes them chase me down.'   
'And you've gotten me involved in this mess?'  
'You spilt coffee on me, you got yourself involved.'  
Otabek saw how distressed he looked and he felt his heart constrict. Since an early age, he'd always been determined to make everybody happy and please them. This instance was no different.   
'We're partners in crime on the run, huh?' He smiled widely and his eyes flickered from side to side. Yuri grinned back and him and nodded, his long hair falling in his eyes. He puffed it out his face with a sharp blow of air, and it was surprisingly cute compared to the sardonic countenance he'd been displaying up until that point.   
'So we'll go back to where you need to go. Why are you here?' Yuri showed no hesitance with his question.   
'My grandmother had a hip replacement,' He replied, and Yuri nodded slowly.   
'Okay, I think I know where to go,' He bravely led the way, winding through numerous identical hallways and occasionally having to duck his head or hide behind whatever he could to ensure he wasn't spotted. Otabek could hardly blame him for wanting to get away from his family- after all, he was kind of doing the same thing, albeit for a very different reason. His own absconding had been initiated by the promise of coffee, not rambling about on an escapade with a boy he didn't even know the age of. He followed him nevertheless, and surprisingly the corridors began to look more familiar until he could point out the correct room. He didn't really think much about walking in with an additional person, and his parents were used to him spontaneously making friends. He made a habit of it, always popping up with somebody new, and by now they'd learnt to just let it happen.   
'Hi, әже,' He bent down and kissed his grandmother's cheek.   
'Is this your girlfriend?' She mumbled, half asleep and without her glasses. Yuri went red and Otabek chuckled softly, squeezing the elderly woman's frail arm. He could kind of see it, actually. The long, blond hair, the height, the petit figure (although he could hardly see a thing beneath those baggy clothes), not to mention the cherubic features, he probably did look like a girl to his visually challenged grandmother.   
'No,' He told her, straightening up and crossing his arms. 'This is Yuri. He's currently a fugitive.'  
'Oh,' She nodded as if she understood, but he didn't think the word fugitive was in her vocabulary. 'Your boyfriend?'   
Otabek laughed again and shook his head in disbelief.   
'No!' He giggled and would've explained had it not been for the worried looking woman all but barging the door down. Otabek recognised her as Yuri's mother.   
'Yuri, will you stop this?' She grabbed her son by the ear and towed him out, much to his aggravation. 'You need to grow up and stop running away!'   
'Sorry, it was my fault,' Otabek followed them out into the hallway, feeling more than a little guilty. 'It appears I led him astray. In fact, he was just getting something from the cafe.'  
'He was?' She looked astonished, and he didn't really understand what was going on. 'Yuri, were you really?'  
'Yeah,' He grumbled, scuffing his feet.   
'Then I spilt my coffee on him and bought him- where did you put your tea?'  
'I don't know, I guess I left it-' Yuri stopped speaking when he remembered that he'd left it in the hospital room they'd darted into when hiding from the doctors. 'At the cafe.'   
Otabek winked at him, which made him grin in return, and it was a euphoric feeling to see a smile on his face.   
'And who is this?' His mother took in Otabek, her eyes drifting lazily up and down his frame. Yuri floundered, clearly unsure where they stood and not confident enough to proclaim a specific statement.   
'A friend,' Otabek said firmly, and seeing the so innocently cheerful look lighting up on Yuri's face encouraged him further. 'Look, I have to get back to my grandmother, but why don't you give me your number and I'll text you?'  
He didn't think if he gave Yuri his number he'd be brave enough to text. Also, this gave him the autonomy to never reply. Yuri listed off his number and Otabek saved it into his phone before bidding his newfound friend goodbye and returning to his impatient parents, who were already coated up and ready to leave. He kissed his grandmother's cheek once more as a parting gift, then left her to rest.   
When they walked through the parking lot, he pulled out his phone and composed a quick text to Yuri. Just a brief 'hi, it's me' kind of thing. Nothing too formal, but not so overly familiar that it scared him. He was intrigued by this oddball he'd managed to pick up in a hospital, and no doubt he'd end up thinking about him nonstop for the next few days.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuri stood in the kitchen staring at the sandwich his mother had prepared for him with fresh hope after coming to believe he'd picked something up in the hospital cafe. To anybody else, a small sandwich with just cheese inside was the least appetising available food in their kitchen. His mum was a chef, which obviously didn't help matters. To somebody who hasn't eaten in upwards of three days, it can look like the most tantalising thing in existence. But at the same time, it made his stomach turn even thinking of eating it. The idea of physically picking it up and putting it in his mouth filled him with a revulsion so great it far outweighed any hunger left in his body.   
'Yuri, aren't you going to eat that?' She asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He wrenched his body away, his throat closing up and threatening to choke him. He hated to disappoint her like this, but he would be more disappointed in himself if he was weak and gave in. He wasn't anywhere near sick enough- how could he even dare to think the word sick when he was still so huge compared to everybody else? Sitting in the psych unit had been hell, seeing all the truly sick people and feeling like he was a faker sat amongst them. He didn't look sick, he knew that for sure. He caught his blurred reflection in the fridge, distorted more by his mind playing tricks on him. Just a few more pounds couldn't hurt, could it? He knew he'd never get to where he wanted to be, but that was okay. He could die trying. This thought renewed his sense of self-empowerment with a vigour and he shook his head.   
'Not hungry,' He shrugged nonchalantly, when in truth he was so starving it felt like his stomach might cave in on itself. That physical hunger was better than the mental berating he'd be in for if he so much as looked at food within the next 24 hours. If he could last that, he would reward himself with something nice. That 'something nice' would inevitably metamorphose into twenty somethings and he'd binge to the point that he'd force it all back up again until his threat bled and his fingers were cracked and sore from the acid. Either that or he'd be a terrified of the prospect of this that he'd continue to starve himself until he could take it no longer. These binge/purge sessions usually began with just a small snack for sustenance or to alleviate suspicion, but then he spiralled out of control. He'd lost all awareness of when he was full because his stomach was so unaccustomed to the sense of having something inside it, meaning he didn't know how to start and yet when he did he didn't know when to stop.   
'What about something small?' His mother continued, tears shining in her eyes- barely noticeable (she'd become very adept at concealing them), but there all the same. He felt awful. 'I could go to Horton's and get you one of their cakes that you-'  
'I said I'm not hungry,' He repeated. 'I have homework, anyway.'  
He took the stairs two at a time to get away from her, legging it to his room and standing in front of his mirror. He stripped right down to his boxers and stared at himself from every angle, mentally comparing himself to how he had looked the day before. Were his hipbones protruding a little more or were his eyes deceiving him? Was he just trying to trick himself into thinking he was marginally thin so that he could eat without guilt? Disgusted, he stretched his arms above his head and watched how his ribs pressed against his skin, turning it alabaster-white. He ran a finger down them, feeling the dents and ridges and wishing they were more obvious. Next he turned sideways and sucked his stomach in, repulsed by the sight of the little pouch just above his hips. He relaxed his sore, overexercised muscles and moved onto inspecting his thighs. They were further apart than they had been, perhaps nearing two inches from each other at the top and the widest part roughly a fist's width. Not enough, but slowly getting there. Satisfied with his visual measurements, he dropped to all fours and reached his arm under his bed, scrabbling for the box that he concealed his scales in. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped onto them, his hands gripping at each other and his nails digging into his palms so hard he broke through his skin when he saw the number flashing up. He'd lost three pounds. Just a meagre three pounds. He'd somehow managed to convince himself it would be more- why the hell had he done that? Frustrated, he switched the scales off and shoved them roughly back into their box and under his bed with a vengeance. He knew it wasn't their fault that he was so heavy and lacking in self control, but it still pissed him off. He pulled on his pyjamas and threw himself onto his bed, picking his phone up off his bedside table. He had a few notifications from the Apple Store and other generic things he cared not for, but interspersed with them was a text from an unsaved number. It was from somebody called Otabek, and upon closer inspection he concluded that it was most likely the boy he'd met at the hospital earlier. It was just saying hi, but it still gave him heart palpitations. It cheered him up a little bit, not that he knew why, and he took a while to ponder over whether or not to reply. On the one hand, he was lonely as hell these days because he was pushing away all his friends. On the other hand, this isolationism was for his own benefit. He didn't particularly get along with people so well anymore, not like he had before his mind had begun to crawl with an infestation of self-hating leeches of thoughts. After an internal debate, he shot back a quick greeting and confirmed that it was him. After this, he forced himself to stand up and ignore the bone-deep aches in his body so that he could begin to push his malnourished body beyond human limit. Further, harder, more, thinner, sicker, better, his mind screamed at him as he coerced his body into obeying his every command. Every push up, every sit up, every stretch made him feel another step closer to death, but he didn't care. He was halted in his tracks by a coughing fit, so hard that it turned into a death rattle and he hacked up blood. He had been scared the first time this had happened, but now he just accepted it as part of life. It was probably to do with the fact that he was wearing away his throat by forcing himself to throw up constantly.   
'Are you okay, sweetheart?' His mum knocked on his door, and he swallowed hard in an attempt to dispel the coughing. 'Do you want me to bring you something for your cough?'  
'I'm fine,' He croaked; pills, syrup- all just needless calories. Even if they were small, things add up. 'Actually, could you bring me some water?'   
'Of course, darling.'  
She appeared a few minutes later with an ice cold glass of water and an apple.   
'I want to see that apple eaten,' She warned, a flash of concern highlighting her tired features. He couldn't face meeting her eyes, knowing the exact expression she would have, and so he picked it up and put it to his lips. She nodded with satisfaction and left him to it, at which point he dropped it and watched it as it rolled across the floor, coming to rest against his wardrobe. He took a deep breath and sipped at the ice cold water, wishing it would do something about the void forming in his stomach. While he relished the fact that he was hungry, he hated the sensation of it, like somebody was gripping his insides and slowly turning them inside out. Once he had finished the water, he lay down and closed his eyes. He wasn't really tired, but it meant that when his mother came in and saw the apple uneaten and tossed across the room, she couldn't stuff it down his throat. He was subjected instead to a disappointed sigh and her whispering a wobbly goodnight to him, kissing his forehead and tucking the covers tighter round his body. Once she'd left, he sat up and hunched his knees up to his chest, breathing hard and fighting the urge to scream in frustration. He wished that he wasn't so obsessed with weight and numbers, but he would rather be miserable and skinny than happy and healthy. It was a sick mindset to have and he knew it, but it was one he couldn't rid himself of. He couldn't really pinpoint when or why it had started; he'd always been obsessed with doing everything just so and always being perfect. He'd never been the best at anything and as such had never really been noticed, but now he had control over himself and he felt so powerful with his ability to deny himself food. He was going to look incredible. People would look at him and be terrified by the fact that he was wasting away; he would finally get the love and attention he deserved. Everybody would crowd around him and beg him to eat something small, but he'd refuse and they'd all be so disappointed and upset and only he more determined for it to make him see how loved he was. He just had to get to that point of sickness where it was visible, then it would be okay. Once he was at the brink of death, maybe then he'd allow himself to it. Maybe then he'd allow himself to be happy. Happiness seemed a very abstract concept to him and completely unattainable with the way things were going for him. He was pulled from his reverie by a buzzing noise, his phone vibrating against his table and the noise grating against the silence of the house. He groaned and grabbed it, the bright light accosting his eyes so that it took a few moments to focus on what was causing the noise.   
'Did I ruin your clothes?' It was another text from Otabek, and for a moment he couldn't decipher the words. His clothes? What had been wrong with his clothes? Then it dawned on him that there had been the coffee incident.   
'It's only coffee. It gives them character.'  
'I'm glad you think so... Any chance I could buy you another tea some time to make up for you not getting to drink the second one either?'  
Yuri hadn't been asked out by a friend in a long while, and it was quite a nice feeling. The only problem was that this would probably entail going to a cafe or some similar establishment, which was one of his biggest fears. Even though he only ever purchased black tea, the fact that it was from somewhere that sold sugary cakes and such made it seem fatty. Just sitting in a place with all that delicious food on display would be enough to drive him crazy.   
'I'm fine on the tea front.' He hoped the reply didn't convey the message that he didn't want to see Otabek again, because he did. He wanted it a little bit more than was probably normal considering they'd met just once, purely by chance, and they might live miles from each other. It was just... The half hour or so that they'd been together had been the happiest he'd spent in a while, as pathetic as it sounded.   
'Sure. Something else maybe? How close do you live to Reading?'  
'A short train ride.'  
'Tomorrow?'   
Yuri raised an eyebrow; that was certainly eager. Then again, it was the weekend and he supposed spare moments at weekends for most people was few and far between. It was either that or wait a week, so he eagerly agreed, and so it was set that he would get the train into town for 11am the next day. It was certainly a shock and very soon, but Otabek had seemed a very amicable person and was obviously used to this kind of thing. It was probably really normal, right?


	4. Chapter 4

Otabek caught sight of Yuri before he even got through the ticket barrier. It was hard not to notice him with his bitter aura exuding ten inches from his body, adding at least some magnitude to him. He waved to him, and was shot a worried looking gaze.   
'Hey,' He smiled, understanding that he'd be nervous meeting somebody for the second time after only a day. Less, even.   
Yuri felt severely underdressed stood in front of Otabek, who was obviously a keen follower of fashion, sporting an exquisitely tailored leather jacket, black jeans and a pair of combat boots that looked as if they might genuinely be military grade. He himself was wearing just a plain, motheaten grey knit sweater and jeans that no longer fit him. They were baggy around his legs, though- he deeply regretted- not baggy enough.   
Otabek, however, didn't notice that Yuri appeared underdressed. Instead, he saw that he was underweight. Alarmingly so. His collarbones jutted out above the collar of his sweater, casting shadows in the hollow between them and his neck. The parts of his arm that had visible shape (due only to where his sleeves were draped off of them) were so tiny he was sure he could touch his forefinger and thumb around them. Not for the first time, he wondered if Yuri might really be sick. He certainly looked it. Even his face was thin; his cheeks were hollow and his eyes were slightly sunken, giving him the haunted appearance of the kind of orphan boy one might see on a poster for a charitable cause.   
'So, umm, what are we doing?' Yuri hazarded this question, still not sure why exactly Otabek had been so eager to meet him when they barely knew each other.   
'You tell me. I don't usually do this kind of thing with my friends, but I figured I'm up for trying something new. It's my New Year's Resolution, actually.'  
'Oh,' Yuri was left unenlightened by this vague answer. 'I don't really do this either.'  
'How about we just go get something to eat and we can decide on something better?'  
Yuri shrugged nonchalantly, but his heart was going a million miles an hour in the face of his worst fear- namely, food. He trailed after Otabek into the shopping centre and towards a standalone coffee shop, where they joined the queue. Otabek ordered something or other that sounded like heaven to Yuri's starving mind, but when it came to his turn he skipped deftly from the queue and ordered nothing.   
'You don't want anything?' Otabek arched an eyebrow, and Yuri hoped he hadn't raised any suspicion. He shook his head silently, but Otabek's eyes didn't leave him and he felt pressed to disclose a reason. Of course, he had hundreds of excuses that he'd tried and tested for every plausible situation. This was an everyday occurrence for him.   
'Had a really big breakfast,' He said this with the exact pat of his stomach he had done before this had become a lie, and paired with the knowing widening of his eyes it always worked beautifully. Otabek accepted it without doubt, but then he had no reason to disbelieve him, especially given that he didn't exactly look like the sort of person who skipped meals. It hadn't been that 24 hours yet, and although there were a few consecutive 24 hours before this one, it still wasn't long enough. They sat down, surprised that there was a free table on a busy morning such as this one, and Otabek ate his food so refreshingly normally. It was actually oddly therapeutic to watch somebody with a healthy relationship with food.   
'What do you usually do, then?' Otabek asked once he'd finished, sitting back and sipping at his coffee. 'With friends, I mean.'  
'I don't know,' Yuri shrugged, not too keen to admit that he didn't really have any anymore. He'd been popular once, before this disease had pervaded every inch of his life and denied him the right to socialise, since usually with hanging out with friends came eating. His friends still tried to invite him places, but he always fobbed them off with weak excuses and he didn't expect they'd keep it up for much longer. 'How about you?'  
'Well... All my friends are really different. They all have different things they like to do. You have hobbies, right?'  
'Not really...' Again, he'd lost all motivation for anything but losing weight. That was his top priority and he couldn't allow anything to get in the way of that.   
'What about trainhopping?'  
'What?'  
'You get on a random train, roll a dice and get off at that number of stops.'  
'Isn't that... illegal? Like, you have to buy a ticket, and-'  
'We get the train to London and take the tube if you're that fussed.'   
'I'm not fussed. It's okay.'  
'London it is!'

Yuri wasn't sure why he had agreed to go along with this- never in his life had he ever been so reckless, and he loved it. His mum hated him going further than a half hour from home, so him going to London would probably drive her crazy, although he couldn't foresee that he'd tell her if he could help it. The unpredictability of it all flooded his veins it's adrenaline and excitement, and for a moment he forgot all about counting down the hours and pounds. He was just a normal boy doing something crazy with a friend he knew nothing about.   
'This one!' Otabek dragged him down one of the stairwells at the Tube station, yanking him hard to the left and making him sway. This was an instant where it was difficult not to think about the fact that he hadn't eaten in days. He blinked hard and forced himself onwards, bounding down the stairs and glad that they hadn't taken the escalator because the stairs would burn more calories. The larger the calorie deficit, the more weight he lost. A train had just pulled in and Otabek grabbed him by the arm, reeling him along. It was a mad dash and a huge leap, but they made it. For a minute they just stood there, the carriage empty except for an elderly woman and a man with a yapping little dog, and laughed breathlessly.   
'Okay,' Otabek sat down after catching his breath and took out the dice. He made a cup with his hands and shook it, then flipped it flat on his palm. Five dots stared back up at them. Yuri looked up to see what stop that was, but Otabek slapped a hand over his eyes.   
'You can't look,' He proclaimed. 'That takes away the fun.'  
'Won't we know when we get there, anyway?'  
'Yes, but that's when we get there. For now, enjoy the uncertainty.'  
Yuri wasn't good with not knowing. He liked exact eventualities and an answer to everything. His entire life revolved around control, so to have it taken away put him ill at ease. He counted down the stops until it was the fifth, at which point they stood up and exited the train into the stuffy underground station of Oxford Circus. They walked up a long flight of stairs and emerged, blinking rapidly, into the grey sunlight of the busy intersection. Yuri took a deep breath, inhaling the fumes and new air of the city. The business of life passing by and everybody's lives continuing was something he loved to observe, and London was the perfect place for this. Unfortunately, he had no time for this as Otabek was already beginning to walk.   
'Won't we get lost?' Yuri piped up, sticking close beside him amongst the throng of people.   
'Probably,' Otabek shrugged. 'Does it matter?'  
Yuri didn't reply, too distracted by the huge crowds and the vivacity of life in England's capital city. Everywhere he looked there were people, distractions, lights, signs to read and faces he'd forget the second he looked away. None of these people knew him and therefore they couldn't judge him. They were too busy talking into earpieces, to friends, to partners. They all had lives to fulfil, whereas all Yuri could think about was how lightheaded he was beginning to feel. It was a really awful moment to get a dizzy spell, but he could sense its presence rolling over him with all the speed and tenacity of a leopard. He looked up at Otabek, trying to give himself something to focus on. He was taking pictures of almost everything they passed, even the most mundane sights that wouldn't go amiss in any town or city. He grimly held onto the fraying thread of consciousness until they ended up in Cavendish Square Gardens.   
'What are you doing?' He was relieved that he could manage to string these words together given that he could barely walk in a straight line any longer. Otabek was still taking pictures and this was piquing his interest.   
'Taking pictures for Instagram.'  
'Instagram, huh?'  
'Yeah. I don't know, people seem to really like me. I posted this one photo of me in London and it went viral, for some reason. I gained, like, 600 followers in a day. From there, it grew, and I guess-' Otabek stopped talking when he realised Yuri wasn't listening. It was at that moment that he collapsed, dropping to the floor in a heap. Had it been a movie, Otabek would have caught him just before he hit the floor, but unfortunately this was real life and as such this was not to be. The only comfort Otabek could take was that he hadn't hit his head too hard thanks to his arm preceding his head in the fall. He instantly dropped down beside him, untangling his limbs and gently shaking him to consciousness. All the while, his heart was pounding in his chest. Yuri's eyes had rolled back into his head, but upon inspection he was still breathing and looked to be just unconscious. By this point, a few passersby had gathered round and somebody was offering to call an ambulance.   
'Yes please,' He nodded, not really sure whether an ambulance was appropriate but not willing to take the risk over leaving this be. It definitely wasn't healthy to suddenly collapse like this. Yuri came to quickly, his eyes peeling open and staring up at the sky for a while as he got his bearings back. The woman who had been about to call the ambulance decided it wasn't necessary and that she could take her leave now that the concerned boy was conscious, as if that made a huge difference.   
'I- did I faint?' Yuri's voice was scratchy and quiet, echoing his expressionless face.   
'Yeah,' Otabek helped him to sit up, but refused to allow him to stand. 'Just stay there for a minute. What happened?'   
'I... Did I faint?' His eyes were still wide, like they were trying to take in everything at once to gain an understanding of the situation.   
'You did. Do you feel okay?'   
'I'm sorry,' Yuri mumbled, dipping his head in humiliation. He couldn't believe that this had happened in front of somebody, especially somebody he deemed to be cool. He owed him the truth, at least. After all, how long could he keep the secret, anyway?   
'For what? You just passed out.'  
'For lying to you. I told you I'm not sick, but I am.'   
'Oh god. Is it really serious?' Otabek's mind instantly thought of just one thing.   
'It's not cancer. I'm not dying sick.'   
'So what's wrong with you?'  
'I, uhh...' It was painful to admit it. This was the kind of sickness only girls got- how pathetic was it for a boy to be this obsessed with himself? And besides, how was it believable when he didn't look the part? Just a diagnosis didn't make it true. 'I have chronic anorexia.'   
Otabek was silent for a very long time and Yuri instantly regretted telling him. He dropped his chin onto his knees, wringing his hands together and chewing at the inside of his lip.   
'Go on,' Otabek sat down next to him, crossing his legs in front of himself and waiting attentively, giving Yuri time to think and attempt to construct an answer.   
'I count everything. Calories eaten, calories burnt, weight, my clothes size, the width of my waist... I guess you could say I'm just number orientated.'  
'Want to talk about it?'  
'Not especially. I just don't really like myself.'  
'How come?'  
'Don't know. Not much to like, is there?'  
'Hang on,' Otabek stood up, pulling Yuri with him and brushing him off delicately, as if he might crumble at any second. To be honest, the way he looked it was a genuine risk. 'Can I take a picture of you?'  
'Why?'  
'Smile!' Otabek pulled out his phone and instantly Yuri covered his face with his hands, the sleeves of his sweater dangling from them almost comically. He allowed the photo to be taken, because he couldn't see how it would do any harm.   
'Tag yourself,' Otabek handed him his phone, which was open on instagram. Reluctantly, Yuri tagged himself, trying not to pay too much attention to how unflattering the photo was. Otabek clicked post, then suggested they find a cafe and sit down. Of course he did. Yuri had found that everybody who knew about his predicament was constantly trying to feed him, usually just because it made them feel better than out of concern. He couldn't decipher whether Otabek was worried about him, but he liked to think that he was, even if it meant he'd ultimately disappoint him when he refused to eat. Usually after passing out he'd use this as a weak excuse to eat, but he felt under pressure to prove that he really was sick despite his lack of visible symptoms. He permitted himself to be dragged practically by the hair to a cheap and cheerful tea shop down a backstreet somewhere, where Otabek ordered food for him (no autonomy over queue-swerving this time) and they sat down in a corner. Yuri stared at the food on his plate with lacklustre. He had reached the point of restriction that food lost its appeal; his stomach had essentially closed itself off and his mind was so used to saying no that even had he wanted to or been physically willing to eat, his hands would have refused point blank to move. He genuinely could not bring himself to do something so simple as place food in his mouth anymore. Otabek watched him, an undisguised downcast expression etched onto his face.   
'You buying me food hasn't fixed me. I didn't tell you this just to garner sympathy,' Yuri told him, trying to keep the edge from his voice.   
'Oh, right. Of course,' Otabek looked yet more miserable, his face falling half a mile.   
'I'm sorry, I just... I shouldn't have told you. It's not going to change anything other than upset you,' Yuri suddenly found that he couldn't hold back the tears. It was the first time he'd been open about his anorexia, and it was as if everything had just been building up and now it was cascading out in the form of hideous sniffling.   
'Oh, Yuri!' Otabek stood up quickly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor and catching the attention of everybody else in the cafe. This only made Yuri cry harder, and Otabek was by his side instantly. 'Do you need some air?'  
'No, I'm sorry, I need to go home.'   
'Yeah, of course. I'll take you to the-' Otabek reached to help him up, but Yuri wrenched himself away and stumbled backwards, toppling his chair over. The resultant crack cast a silence over the cafe and what felt like thousands of eyes landed on him.   
'I- I should go,' Yuri muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he escaped out the door. He started running without really knowing where he was going, occasionally glancing back to make sure he wasn't being followed. He had never let his guard down in front of someone like that before and he was truly humiliated. Otabek was both older him and in general just a much- and he hesitated to say it- cooler person, so to hang out with him had felt like a privelige of some sort, and now he had ruined it all. He ended up back in the park he'd fainted in, and he found himself shinning up one of the trees like he had always done before his muscles had wasted away. He grabbed a thick branch and shimmied himself onto it, leaning his back against the trunk and propping his legs against a branch. He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out his phone from where he'd been ignoring it vibrating. Three missed calls from Otabek, but then that was to be expected. He had just run away from him in a massive city, after all. He didn't know how he'd be reacting, but despite being hopelessly lost he didn't want to see him for at least a few good years. He ignored the notifications and instead went to Instagram, where he had almost a hundred follow requests. He clicked on tagged photos and tapped the most recent, the same candid that Otabek had taken of him earlier. The caption read,  
'Tell my friend he's cute.'  
He flicked through the comments, and the second he did so he regretted it. Interspersed with generic comments such as 'nice sweater!' and 'cutie' were the type of remarks that made him feel sick.   
'Do you see those legs?' One girl asked, tagging a friend to gawp at the spectacle.   
'Yikes, he's a stick!' Another observed.   
'Literal thinspo, would die for those legs and collarbones.' This was the one that most affected him, combined with the rampant speculation that he was anorexic. He couldn't understand why the hell they were saying things like this, but the twisted part of his mind relished it. At this moment, he was hit with a barrage of texts from his school friends. Usually he would ignore them, but since they all came within such short intervals of each other and from such a spectrum of people that he became curious. He opened one up from a girl in his chemistry class, and was alarmed by what it said.   
'How come you're friends with Otabek Altin???'   
He was startled to see that he'd received many more of the same with just a slight variation on the words used. A few girls asked him to introduce them, a few others proclaimed only that he was 'bloody gorgeous' and most of them hadn't even been following him before, but they'd seen the tag in their notifications and had instantly fallen in love with the dark, leather-wearing young man. Even a few boys had texted him, wondering why he'd stirred all the girls up into a frenzy. He fired back a few explanatory texts to the most prolific gossipers saying that they weren't really close, they'd just met by chance and gone into Reading. He got another call from Otabek, which he again ignored, but then he received a text from him begging him to disclose his whereabouts because he was worried. On the next call, he picked up the phone with much trepidation.   
'Oh, thank god,' Otabek sighed. 'Are you okay? Are you on your way home?'  
'Umm...' Unsure what to say, he hesitated.   
'Are you still in London? Are you lost?'  
'No. I mean, yeah I'm still in London. In the park where we were earlier. I'm okay, though. You can go home, or whatever.'  
'No, stay where you are and I'll come find you.'  
'Please don't!' Yuri was embarrassed to say the least after having just run away like that. He didn't want to have to face Otabek again. 'I can find my way home, or my mum can pick me up.'  
'Don't be stupid. I'm in the park already, where are you? I can't see you anywhere!'  
Yuri could see him from his high vantage point, crossing the park with his neck craned to try and find him. He looked smaller from this height, less intimidating and somehow softer from this angle. For a moment he just watched him wandering around, searching high and low, still holding his phone against his ear.   
'Seriously, are you sure you're in the same park?'   
Yuri jumped at the sound of his voice, remembering that he was the person on the end of that phone.   
'I'm sat in a tree,' He said this with disbelief tainting his voice, followed with a surprised half-laugh. He'd clean forgotten that he was sat in a tree. He watched as Otabek looked around at each tree until he spotted him and waved. Yuri hung up and clambered down from the tree, hanging his head in shame.   
'Sorry,' He mumbled, kicking at the ground anxiously.   
'You apologise a lot,' Otabek commented, and Yuri realised that yes, he did. He almost apologised for this, but he just managed to stop himself. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to say what was on his mind without the word sorry being littered throughout his sentences for once.   
'I shouldn't have run off like that, I know. It was stupid, but I'm stupid and my mind makes me do stupid things. I'm just not used to talking about it. In fact, I don't even know why I told you, considering we met yesterday.'  
'Apparently I have a thing for people,' Otabek smirked, and Yuri was enchanted by it. 'I always have. I'm like a siren; I lure people in and they tell me all their secrets.'  
'I don't think that's what a siren does.'  
'You think I study Greek mythology?'  
'Well, what do you study? I mean, shouldn't you be at university?'  
'Gap year.'  
'And you're not travelling?'  
'No. I don't go to different places- I prefer to collect people. I've been exploring the world through conversation, you know?'  
'Not really. Am I a collectible?'  
'Partially. You're like a rare collector's item.'   
'Why? Am I the limited edition anorexic Ken doll?'  
Otabek chuckled softly and they started walking together, somehow falling easily into step in spite of their size difference and the fact that Yuri's legs were scraped up from his tree-climbing escapades.   
'There's just something about you,' Otabek struggled to find a way to word it that didn't sound odd, but he couldn't. 'You're a real human.'  
'Oh, thanks. Thought I was an alien for a second there.'  
'No, not like that!'  
'Then what?'  
Otabek didn't answer; he couldn't, he didn't know how. How could he explain to Yuri that being near him was strangely compelling, that he hadn't noticed until he'd returned home the day before how much of an effect he'd had on him? There weren't apt words to describe what he was feeling, though this came as no surprise to him as he couldn't understand it himself. All the other people he'd met and instantly sparked a friendship with had all been just as nice, and certainly a lot more levelheaded, but Yuri carried with him this enthralling energy that was completely inescapable. He had no idea what was happening to him, but he didn't dislike it.   
'I should probably get you home,' He eventually sighed, beginning to steer him back towards where he assumed the Tube station would be. 'It's going to take a few hours to find our way, and it's already starting to get dark.'   
In the end, it took half an hour to find the Tube station, twenty minutes to get back to Paddington and then another hour to make it back to Reading. Yuri didn't really talk much on the way back, clearly exhausted from all that dashing around and divulging shocking secrets, so Otabek did all the talking for him. He explained how he'd quickly grown a popular internet persona because of his peculiarly interesting pictures of mundane life, then how followers had persuaded him to start a blog, and then he related what being a people person was like. He could pretty much make anyone feel comfortable with him, and Yuri felt a little patronised by this, but Otabek hurried to assure him that while this might be the case now, the strong feelings of friendship were entirely mutual. When Yuri's train arrived, Otabek walked right up to the doors with him and hugged him tightly before setting him free, making him promise to take care of himself 'until next time'. Yuri dawdled over to a seat, his every atom still reeling from both the embrace and a promise of next time. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't weigh himself that night. Although he refused dinner, he didn't obey the compulsive exigencies of his mind that demanded he measure each and every inch of his marvellously flawed body. Instead, he fell asleep without tears, something he had not achieved in a month.


	5. Chapter 5

School is a universally lousy affair whichever way you look at it, but for Yuri it was a new, personalised brand of hell. Thanks to his dizzy spells and permanent faintness, he found he could never concentrate on his work. On top of this his friends had begun to question every single tiny thing and it drove him insane- more so than he already felt. Today was no different; already Minami had tried to force a cookie from tuck down his throat unceremoniously and Sara had dragged him down to the lunch hall, where he was now sat rolling an apple in between his hands. This was all he'd procured, and he couldn't pretend to himself that they weren't noticing things anymore. It didn't help that already he'd been ambushed by Mila about knowing Otabek- he could tell she was more than a little infatuated already.   
'I told you,' He repeated himself for what had to be the hundredth time that lunch hour, 'I barely know him. We met once and that's it.'   
'Just in Reading?' She queried, and he nodded to confirm this. 'Well, how come the picture's taken in London, then?'   
'Oh,' He had forgotten how intrusive his friends could be, and how strangely omniscient they were when there interest was attracted. 'We went to London. Same day, though. He does this thing where he rolls a dice and gets off at that stop.'   
'He's so cool,' Sara sighed dreamily and her brother looked ready to beat this gambling hipster to a pulp. 'Can you introduce me?'  
'Like I already said,' Yuri couldn't keep the harsh tone from his voice this time. 'I barely know him, so no.'  
'Do you have his number?'  
'No.'   
'Liar. Hey, aren't you going to eat that?'  
Yuri looked down at the apple in his hand, the deep red skin skin polished and shined like a freshly cleaned shoe from where he'd been rubbing it between his palms.   
'Nope. Won't catch me eating rabbit food,' He stood up abruptly and placed it on her tray, much to her disapprobation. 'Going out for dinner, anyway. You know what my mum's like if I don't have an appetite- she'll say I've been getting food on the way home.'   
She hmmed him to show her disapproval, but allowed him to get away with it. He took a huge sigh of relief and, just like that, the biggest obstacle of the school day was over and all that was left to do was decide how to get out of dinner. Now that he'd been diagnosed he usually didn't even bother lying, he just flatly refused and went straight to his room either to attempt to catch up on homework or to bully himself into exercising until he fell asleep exhausted and dry coughing.   
Today he planned to do the exact same thing, the odd tranquility that being around Otabek had brought him not extending further than a half hour period. The next day it would be a full week since he'd last eaten and he was paralytic with excitement for that, however sick his pride over it was. This was by far the longest he'd ever gone without eating and he'd never thought he could do it, but here he was, barely able to make it up the single flight of stairs to his form room for registration. Achieving the stairs, he stumbled through the doorway into his classroom, breathing hard and clutching at his files as if they could centre his gravity for him. His tongue felt too big in his mouth and his hearing had gone strange, almost as if he was underwater. His vision tied into this well given the blurriness of its edges and a spike of panic lanced through his chest, his brain screaming at him to fucking keep it together! He knew he was going to faint, but he also knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. His thoughts seemed to be moving through treacle with the speed at which they were dragging themselves through his mind and there was a dark miasma creeping across his vision, accompanied by spots of colour blocking out half his sight. He went to grip the table but missed, and then the haze met in the middle and he fell. He woke up not more than three seconds later, his mind and the world whirling round him as he scrabbled to recall how he had ended up there. His classmates were standing over him, concern and judgment etched into their unrecognisable features.   
'Somebody call the nurse,' His form teacher was clamouring, a particularly stressed man by the name of Edward DeGalle- Mr. DG affectionately and The Balls unaffectionately.   
'No, I'm fine,' Yuri sat up slowly, shaking his head to dispel the blots in his vision. 'I just-'  
'Come here, idiot,' Guang Hong manhandled him to his feet and sat him down forcefully on a chair. 'Mr. DG, I can go get the nurse.'   
'Thank you.'   
'You twat,' A boy knocked Yuri over the head, laughing as he did so. Yuri tried to goad him back, but he couldn't connect the dots well enough to put together a coherent sentence.   
'Right, everybody go home now,' Mr. DG called over the loud, excited voices of the witnesses to this scene. There'd be talk for days, if not weeks, and Yuri was furious with himself for allowing such a thing to happen. He hung his head in his hands and prayed that he could get out of this unscathed. He knew already that the chances were low. First the nurse checked all his vitals, something he was accustomed to thanks to doctor's appointments, then requested that they be left alone for a 'little chat'. This was how Yuri knew things really weren't looking good for him.   
'Your blood pressure is abysmal,' She began as she packed her things away into her dark green medical bag. 'And you're very underweight. Have you been eating?'   
He almost scoffed when she said underweight- you only had to look at him to see he was not, nor would he ever be, underweight enough to be construed as sick- whatever his doctors said.   
'Yeah,' He said this with as much conviction as he could muster given the circumstances. Not hugely convincing, and he could see she was disbelieving.   
'I'm going to have to call your parents, as you are showing many symptoms of anorexia nervosa.'  
He let out a long exhale, not even having realised he'd been holding his breath until he released it. He'd seen this coming for a good long while and it was almost a relief to have gotten it over with. He was only alarmed that the school hadn't been notified by the hospital or something. Just went to show the shoddy state of the health system, or perhaps the education system.   
'Look, my mum already knows. I have a diagnosis, everything is fine.'  
'I still have to call her to confirm that, since it's not on your school record.'  
'Don't, you'll only upset her!' He hated to think of her having to take the call. She didn't reply, instead going into the corridor presumably to call his mother and order Mr. DG to come and play counsellor or whatever. He felt like he'd misbehaved somehow, not been reported as sick. He supposed they would treat mental illness like naughtiness; most older people can't accept that it's just that- an illness- and not a decision to be difficult. Besides, he was a boy. Boys don't get anorexic. Mr. DG returned with a somber expression and pulled up a chair to sit next to him. The poor man clearly had no idea how to broach the subject, never having had to before. Not with a boy, anyhow.   
'It's okay,' Yuri muttered. 'I don't need to talk about it.'   
'The problem is you have to,' Mr. DG sounded like he hated the idea just as much. 'We need to set up a plan to help you.'   
'Really, I'm fine. Pretty much recovered- they're discharging me next week.'  
'Really?'  
'Yes, I'm better.'   
'Then what happened today?'  
'My blood pressure drops sometimes, that's all. Then when I eat the sugar sometimes overloads my body and I faint,' A beautifully constructed lie, even if he did say so himself. It both sounded scientific enough to be believable and made it seem as if he'd eaten. What made it better was that Mr. DG was a music teacher and as a result had little to no medical knowledge other than that of basic first aid.   
'Would it help if I talked to your friends?' He suggested, and Yuri felt sick at the idea.   
'No!' He cried. 'They- they already know.'  
'Right, okay, yes. Good. I mean, not- well, we have to wait for your mother to pick you up as I need to talk to her.'   
'Can I wait outside?'  
'I suppose so... We'll need somebody to wait with you to make sure you don't abscond.'  
'Is Guang Hong still here?'  
'Yes. He's worried about you- a few people are. You go wait with him and I'll have a quick word with the nurse.'   
Yuri stood up slowly, ordering his mind to stay focussed and his legs to remain steady. He wobbled a little as he walked out the classroom, where Guang Hong was pressing the nurse for answers, which she was sharply denying him. When he caught sight of Yuri, he pouted.   
'All you did was pass out,' He protested when Yuri dragged him down the corridor and out into the fresh air, which he was inexplicably grateful for. 'What's with all the fuss?'  
'Anorexia,' Yuri snapped, sick of lying to people and sick of having to talk about it. At that moment he was so het up that he didn't think of the consequences of everybody finding out. He stormed towards the gates, and Guang Hong had to yank him backwards by his collar.   
'Didn't they say you have you wait here?'  
'Yeah, and you think I want to?'   
'Fair enough,' Guang Hong shrugged, and they walked out together.   
'You can go home, you know.'   
'Are you sure?'  
'I'm fine,' How many times had he had to say that in the past 24 hours? It was like some kind of refrain now, popping up in every single conversation he held. Guang Hong visibly relaxed and bid him farewell, slouching off in the other direction and leaving him alone to think.   
Yuri ambled down the streets, occasionally stopping to glance behind and ensure there wasn't a teacher running down the street after him. Soon his mother would turn up and there'd be a massive kerfuffle when they realised he'd gone. He didn't particularly care; let them worry all they wanted. A stab of hunger twisted his stomach and he briefly checked the timer on his phone. More than 24 hours had passed- surely it was okay to just eat one small thing? He knew he was just making excuses to eat, but at the same time he was fighting a losing internal battle against his hunger because all of this upset had made him want nothing more than to binge eat and cry for a few hours. It happened every damn time he restricted- he failed himself miserably and gave into the most basal of desires. He ducked into a shop and bought some food, trying his best to convince himself that he was so sick, he was just dying- after all, the nurse had called him extremely underweight, right? This food was fine. Deep down he knew he was lying to himself and really he was just as fat as he always had been, but his starved mind was delirious and desperate enough that it would turn to these self-deceptions. He sat on a bench and savoured each bite, eating so fast that he felt sick. The second it was gone he felt worse than before, the self hatred kicking in strong and the guilt throttling him. Why had he done that? It had been going so well! He loathed himself beyond words. He folded his legs underneath himself and gripped at his stomach with his hands, pinching the fat between his fingers so hard it was unbearable. Why couldn't he just be strong and get rid of it? Why did he have to be so weak? In all honesty, he just wanted to jump in front of the next car that passed by him. In possibly the strangest twist of fate, the next car was a rusted heap of junk that pulled up beside him. Frowning, he drew his legs in closer in paranoia. This was the kind of thing his school was constantly warning the girls about, and in his panic he forgot that he wasn't a girl and it was less likely to happen to him.   
'Yuri?' It wasn't the voice of a paedophile that called his name in dulcet tones, however. Was this even possible? This was so unlikely it couldn't even have been a coincidence. 'You alright?' Dark eyes took in his small, hunched frame and made a quick decision that he really wasn't.   
'What are you doing here?' Yuri managed to choke out, unfurling himself and peering into Otabek's car.   
'I live nearby. The bigger question is what you're doing sat crying on a bench.'   
'Crying? I'm not-' Yuri's hands went to his cheeks and, sure enough, there were tears that he hadn't even noticed damp against his skin. 'I got in trouble at school and now I've kind of run away.'  
'Every time I've seen you you've been running away. Do you want me to take you home?'  
Yuri regarded the car with a skeptical eye, not sure it would hold up all the way to his house. It was only ten minutes down the road, so that was saying something.   
'I can walk,' He stated, but he actually didn't know if he had the strength to do so.   
'Just get in,' Otabek ordered, and with a great display of reluctance he climbed in. 'Where to?'  
'Literally the end of this road.'  
'So what happened?' Otabek turned down the grungy rock anthems playing on the radio so they could talk.   
'I passed out in registration and they kind of made a fuss. They called my mum- I think they're probably talking to her right now.'   
'Quite right, too. You fainted yesterday as well. Yuri, this is serious.'  
He stayed silent, picking at a loose thread in his jumper and unable to respond. He indicated that his house was just on the left, and Otabek parked in front of it.   
'You don't have to-'  
'I don't really want to leave you.'   
Yuri sighed dramatically and let Otabek follow him in. He already knew what he was doing for the next half an hour, and it was incredibly inconvenient to have somebody around as he did it.   
'I need to take a shower,' He lied and showed Otabek up to his room, leaving him to sit there as he escaped to the bathroom to rid himself of the food he could physically feel decaying into fat within him. He'd already have absorbed so much of it that the last week or so of fasting had been entirely pointless. He turned the shower on to mask the sound of him retching and knelt down in front of the toilet. He forced his fingers down his throat, wincing as his nails scraped at the already irritated skin. His throat convulsed and he leaned his elbows against the seat as the bile rose up his throat. He forced it all up until there was nothing but stomach acid left, still convinced that there was more and he just had to get it out so that he didn't get fat. He wished he could just throw everything up, all the fat enveloping his body. Instead there was just blood, and more than usual. He stopped at this point for a moment, his vision patched and his body feeling concave within. He sat back and leaned against the door, coughing hard until he heard a knock against it.   
'Yuri, are you okay?' Otabek's voice drifted in, and Yuri realised that the shower probably hadn't been masking the noise of him gagging violently.   
'Leave me alone!' He called through the door, his voice raw and throaty. 'I'm fine!'  
He barely got these words out before the coughing overtook him again, and with this came more blood. He stared at it in the palm of his hand for a moment, uncomprehending and nauseated by it. He stood up and hurriedly washed his hands, then leaned over the sink and stared at his face in the mirror. His skin was pale and sallow, contrasted only by his red-rimmed eyes and his damp cheeks from tears. Involuntarily this time, he threw up again, his stomach unsettled from being starved for so long and then crammed with food, only to have it forced back up again. He curled up in a ball and prayed that he would get through this. It truly felt like he was dying the way his heart was leaping irregularly this way and that and his body had turned cold. It felt like he was already dead. Was it possible to be both alive and not living at the same time?   
'Yuri, please,' Otabek's voice was desperate now, and he pounded on the door. 'Just let me in.'  
The way he worded it was almost amusing; Otabek wanted to be let into the bathroom, but for that to happen Yuri would have to let him in emotionally as well. He already had partially, but this was the darkest part of him that he couldn't allow anybody to see. He splashed cold water on his face to wash away the tears and dispel the colourlessness of his cheeks.   
'You should go,' He spoke only just loud enough that Otabek would hear it.   
'You know I can't do that.'  
He brushed his hair from out of his eyes and reviewed the situation. He didn't want Otabek to see him like this, but neither did he want to stay in there any longer the way he was feeling. He wanted to go to bed and sleep off his guilt and self hatred so that when he woke up he was hungry again. He just wanted that feeling back, of being so starving it hurt to suck his stomach in. He wiped his eyes with a flannel in an attempt to get the swelling to go down, but it was no use. He looked horrific and there was no way around it. It took great courage to open the door, and even then he did so with no haste. The second it was cracked open enough that he was visible, Otabek pulled him out and inspected him closely, brushing a hand against his blotchy, tearstained cheeks.   
'Why would you do that to yourself?' Was all he could ask, and Yuri could detect a hint of ire behind his façade of understanding.   
'You wouldn't understand,' He whispered, stepping away from him and dragging the back of his hand across his forehead. 'You don't know what it's like.'  
'You're right, I don't. Tell me what it's like.'   
'I want to sleep,' He announced and walked down to his room, crawling under his duvet and pulling it right up to his ears like it could conceal the horrors he was inflicting upon himself. He always told himself he was nowhere near sick, but now that somebody was seeing into what he spent so long hiding he realised how messed up it was. It didn't mean he'd stop doing it; he just had a slightly different perspective of it now. Otabek sat beside him and stroked his hair, threading his fingers through it and gently combing out all the tangles.   
'You don't have to stay,' Yuri mumbled sleepily, blinking slowly up at him.   
'I know,' Otabek smiled softly and remained exactly where he was. 'When did you last eat?'  
Yuri felt he owed him something for his time- the truth, or anything that would make this seem less pointless and embarrassing.   
'Just before you picked me up. I threw it all up though.'   
'And before that?'  
'I don't know,' He was lying; he kept an exact record in his mind of how long he went without eating. It was a twisted point of pride to have the hours, then days clocking up. 'A few days ago, I guess.' He understated it considerably so as not to procure too much anxious fretting.   
'Days?'   
'Yeah. Well, I binged right before so the first three days don't even count.'  
'It was more than three days?'  
Yuri groaned when he realised he'd let slip too much and sat up, leaning back against the headboard.   
'Maybe it was more like seven,' He admitted, not really seeing the point to lying anymore. Besides, he had a weird liking for the way Otabek looked horrorstricken. Saying it out loud made him sound much sicker than he was- what he didn't say was that he was craving food the entire time and had almost weakened multiple times. He also didn't bring up the fact that he wasn't thin enough that it made any difference to him.   
'That's why you've been fainting.'  
'Really?' He retorted sarcastically, ice lining his words.   
'I'm just trying to get my head around it.'  
'There's nothing to get your head around; I'm just losing a bit of weight, it's not a big deal.'  
'Not a big deal? Are you kidding me? Most people just work out and eat healthily, you're starving yourself for days on end. This could kill you!'  
'Tragic,' Yuri snapped drily. 'At least if it kills me, I'll know I died sick enough.'   
'For real? You're-'  
The tension was broken when Yuri's phone began to ring.   
'It's been doing that nonstop,' Otabek picked it up and handed it to him. 'You should answer.'  
It was his mother, unsurprisingly. He had in excess of twenty missed calls. The second he picked up, she was on the line having what seemed to be a panic attack.   
'Yuri, is that you? Are you okay? Are you alright? Do you need me to-'  
'Chill. I'm at home,' He answered with a disinterested tone. 'Just didn't want to stick around.'   
'But your teacher said he saw you getting into a stranger's car!'  
'Yeah, Otabek drove me home.'   
'Oh, thank god.'  
'Sorry I didn't stay.'  
'That's okay, sweetheart. I'm just glad you're safe. I'll be back soon and we can talk.'  
'We can talk tomorrow- Otabek's still here.'  
'What time's he leaving?'  
'I don't know, but I want to get an early night.'  
'Okay. I'll see you soon.'  
'Bye,' He hung up and threw his phone across the room upon seeing how many texts he had from stupid people asking if he was okay after registration. 'Oh god... I should have never let myself pass out. Now everybody knows and- Jesus, I'm so fucking stupid!'   
For the second time, Yuri began to ugly-cry in front of Otabek. Otabek gathered him up into his arms, scared by how breakable he felt and how small his waist was. He could probably fit his hands round it if he tried. Yuri cried for a little while longer and he just held him, unspeaking and rocking him back and forth to calm him. Once he was placated, Yuri squirmed away. It felt weird to be so close to Otabek- he didn't want him to think he was weird or anything.   
'Sorry, I'm being pathetic. I suppose throwing up does that to you,' He laughed mirthlessly. 'You can honestly go now. Don't worry about me- you don't know me.'   
'I'd like to,' Otabek fixed him with a steady gaze, and he blushed a deep magenta colour. 'I'm glad I met you, because now I can help you.'  
'I'm not fixable,' Yuri whispered, quickly looking away. 'So please don't try.'  
'I'm going to. I know where you live now, so I'm going to sneak into your room in the middle of the night and force came down your throat.'  
'I don't even like cake!'  
'Okay, what do you like?'  
'Uhh... I like- liked- piroshki.'   
'The Russian thing?'  
'Yeah. My grandfather's Russian and he always used to make them. I don't really see him anymore since flights are mad steep.'   
'I'll learn how to make piroshki, then, and I'll force them down your throat.'  
'I won't swallow them.'  
'Mm, you need me to teach you to swallow?'  
Yuri's eyes flicked back up and he met Otabek's eyes, his jaw dropping and the blood rushing from his face. Was this guy coming onto him or something?   
'Christ, not like that!' Otabek shoved him lightly on the shoulder, humour making his eyes shine. 'Get your mind out of the gutter.'   
'You said it, not me...'  
'I said it with entirely innocent intention.'  
'And not so innocent connotations.'   
'Am I not allowed to flirt with you?'  
'No! That's... Gross.'  
Otabek grinned and rolled his eyes, but the joke ended there and nothing more was said of the matter. They talked about for a while- they talked about childhood, growing up, school, refreshingly normal things that made Yuri long to have that kind of simplicity in his life once more. It ended up getting late ridiculously quickly, and soon Otabek had to go (his parents didn't worry because he was sensible, but he was scared of driving in the dark after hitting a squirrel whilst learning- this story made Yuri laugh for minutes on end). Yuri watched him driving away from his window and wondered what he was doing talking to somebody so platonically out of his league, but he couldn't answer his own question. This was unchartered territory for him and for once he wasn't afraid to go exploring.


	6. Chapter 6

'Can I ask you a question?' Otabek put a hand on his mother's shoulder, slipping in beside her to help her with the dishes. He found her easiest to talk to when her hands were distracted and she could focus a bit more on what was immediate, rather than work that needed to be done. He dried as she washed, and after she'd finished a bowl she replied.   
'Ask away.'  
'It's not a nice one.'  
'That's okay, I signed up for this when I gave birth to you.'   
'What do you know about anorexia?'  
Her hands froze for a moment and she took a moment to recompose herself before beginning to scrub again.   
'Why?'  
'One of my friends.'  
'Is she okay?'  
'He, actually. I want to help him but I don't really know what I can do. He's already seeing a doctor but I'm worried for him.'   
'Have you tried talking to him?'  
'Yeah. He doesn't really like to talk about it, though.'   
'Then don't make him. Talk to him about other things; let him find happiness and maybe that will help.'  
'Your advice is pretty good,' He hugged her, and she stroked his back.   
'How did you become such a good person?'  
'Raised by one of the best.'   
'Now you're sucking up to me. Let me guess, you want to go out?'   
'Do you mind?' He chuckled, amazed by how quickly she'd seen through him. The idea had only really come to him in the middle of the conversation when she'd told him to make Yuri happy. He didn't know if he'd be free, but he wanted to at least try to cheer him up. He'd sent him plenty of texts, but only received one that said he was taking a day off school because he was afraid to face the music. He sent him a text now to ask if he was around, along with several other friends he hadn't seen in a while.   
'You're 19. You're allowed to have a life.'  
He kissed her on the cheek, thanking her, before tidying away the rest of the dishes and mooching off to his room. He didn't get a reply from Yuri for several hours, by which point the plans were already made and all his friends were on their way down. He asked him to meet at a park near to the school, assuming he'd live somewhere nearby. He insisted that all his friends would be super nice and he'd love all of them, so he didn't need to worry. Yuri was adamant that he wasn't worried in the first place, and Otabek got the feeling he was happy to escape his house and to hang out with the 'big boys'. He'd partially forgotten that there was an almost four year age gap between them, and he wondered if he was immature or Yuri was mature for his age. He'd reacted childishly in the situations where he'd run away, but that wasn't what gave him a childish aspect. It was when his sickness was more visible than usual and Otabek would get the overwhelming urge to protect him. He wasn't sure if this was due t his caring nature or because Yuri was so defenceless and small. Was he just projecting a hero complex onto him? Maybe he was feeling like this because he loved to be the knight in shining armour and Yuri was a perfect example of a damsel in distress. Whether it was a glorified god complex or not, he still had a burning desire to save Yuri. 

Yuri had been afraid at first despite his excitement, but as it turned out he needn't've had any qualms about it because as Otabek had explained, all his friends were great. Rafael, the Dominican boy with hair almost as big as his ego. Denver, the 'not-girl-not-boy' (their own words) with an eclectic taste in fashion. Amira, the ethereally stunning sari-wearing girl who had brought brightly coloured spirits in a wide variety of alcohol percentage. She explained to Yuri that her clothes were a 'fuck you' to Eurocentric fashion ideals and he giggled, taking one of the drinks she passed him and sipping it gingerly. He screwed up his face as the overly sweet and yet so acidic drink burned the back of his throat, and Otabek laughed at him.   
'Not really a drinker, are you?' He teased. Yuri stuck his tongue out and downed half of it, at which point Otabek plucked the bottle out of his hands, much to his protestation. 'Slow down, moron! This stuff is mortal.'  
'Oh, shut up,' Denver prised the bottle from Otabek and handed it back to its rightful owner. 'As if you don't drink one a minute.'   
Yuri smirked and smugly poured the last of it down his throat. He sat down next to Otabek on a wall, rubbing his hands together to keep the early spring frost from demobilising them. Soon, he hoped, the alcohol would kick in and the sensation of cold would become a stranger to him.   
'What are we actually doing here, again?' He asked, bored now that he had finished his drink and had nothing else to put his mind to.   
'We're just going to get drunk and talk,' Otabek shrugged, tossing back the contents of an obnoxiously green alcopop with alarming ease.   
'That's it?'  
'That's it.'  
'Nobody's drunk.'  
'The boy is right!' Announced Rafael, who brandished a bottle of vodka. 'Shots!'  
'Nobody even has shot glasses,' Otabek pointed out, but Amira was already on it. She took the bottle caps from all the empty bottles and lined five up along the wall, into which Rafael poured vodka liberally.   
'Ready?' He knelt down in front of them, picking up a cap and spilling a little over the sides. Yuri picked one up too, to which Otabek again complained.   
'You can't do shots! I feel like I'm sullying you.'  
'You sullied me,' Rafael grumbled, and Otabek shot him a glare, but allowed everybody to pick up the caps.   
'Okay, 3-2-1!' Denver cried, and they all took the shots. Yuri coughed as it burned his throat and Otabek laughed at him again. He was beginning to feel lightheaded at last and he teetered a little as he sat down on the wall. He didn't know when Amira lit a joint, but at some point they were all sat in a circle on the wet grass and she was passing it around. At least, he was sure it was a joint because it sure as hell didn't look like a cigarette. Denver handed him the joint and he was about to take it when Otabek intervened, diving in to swipe it from his young, impressionable grasp.   
'No way,' He handed it back to Denver, giving them a stern glare. 'He can drink a bit, but no smoking.'   
'Why? You did!' Yuri protested, his eyes flashing with envy and anger. He just so desperately wanted to be a normal person and be able to fit in with this group, but Otabek was pot-blocking him.   
'Because you're sixteen. Bad habit.'   
Yuri rolled his eyes and stalked off to sit on a swing. Otabek came up behind him and began to push him, evoking a startled giggle and making him grin widely. He hadn't done such a simple and innocent thing since time immemorial. He kicked his legs out and leaned back, his hair fluttering behind him. Otabek stopped the swing with his boot and held Yuri by the shoulders, running his hands through his hair. Yuri sighed, the alcohol in his veins fogging his mind and making him feel a beautiful warmth and serenity. This was a good escape. But was it intoxication or something a little bit more? The fingers threading gently through his hair, perhaps? He stood up abruptly, and Otabek retracted his hands like he'd burnt them.   
'Don't like your hair being touched?'  
'No, I do- I mean, I don't care,' He reached up and touched his hair. 'What did you do to it?'  
'It's a french braid.'  
'What?'  
'A kind of plait.'  
'Why the hell do you know how to plait- are you gay or something?'  
'What, just because I can plait I'm automatically gay?' Otabek arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes.   
'No, I just mean... It's weird.'  
'Whatever. Hey, truth or dare?'  
'Ugh, really?' Yuri rolled his eyes, but Otabek pursued it and dragged him back to sit him down with the others, who were all flying high as a kite by this point. 'Fine. Dare.'  
'I dare you to down the rest of this,' Amira passed him the almost-empty bottle of vodka. He looked at Otabek and, receiving no complaint this time, tipped the contents down its throat, ignoring the acid pain of it. He held the empty bottle up like a trophy, almost keeling over backwards but giggling madly all the same.   
'Denver, druth or tare?' He chortled, waving the bottle at them.   
'Truth,' They blinked slowly at him.   
'Ooh! Do you have a crush?' Rafael jumped in, wrapping an arm round their waist.   
'Next question,' They grimaced.   
'Forfeit!' Amira squealed with excitement. 'You have to... Swing as high as you can on the swings!'   
'Not very adventurous,' Yuri slurred, but then he remembered they were more than a little tipsy and swings would inevitably cause Denver to puke.   
'Okay, yes I have a crush!' They blurted out, but denied further information. Amira pouted and moved on, bored with talking to a brick wall.   
'Otabek, truth or dare?'  
'Dare,' He grinned mischievously.   
'I dare youuuu,' Amira sang, glancing around the circle. 'To kiss Yuri!'   
'No way!' Yuri cried out, shock turning his face pale and his stomach numb.   
'Okay,' She conceded, looking mildly disappointed. 'Rafael, then.'   
Yuri expected Rafael to protest, but instead he just waggled his eyebrows suggestively and beckoned Otabek over. Yuri thought they'd pretend to do it, or maybe lightly peck each other as a joke. This was what happened with spin the bottle at any parties he went to, just for the banter. But no- either Otabek was really dedicated to this game or he was actually into it. He hooked a hand behind Rafael's head and pulled him in for a deep kiss, holding him there and moaning softly. It felt distinctly wrong to be watching them, but everybody else was giggling and he wondered if it was because he wasn't high like they were that he didn't feel so sure. He didn't think he had anything specifically against two guys kissing, but he didn't like the thought of Otabek doing it. The two of them pulled apart after a few seconds and Denver wolf-whistled them. Otabek sat on Rafael's lap and ordered that the game continue. Yuri started to feel somewhat sick, his stomach knitting tightly together and his head feeling like somebody had swirled the contents of it about with a whisk. He lay back on the cold grass, relishing the feeling of it cool against his hands as he ran his fingers through it. The last thing he remembered was momentarily propping his head up to see that Otabek and Rafael were kissing again whilst Denver and Amira egged them on wildly, splashing them with drinks. All four of them were laughing raucously and he couldn't help but feel forgotten. 

Yuri awoke the next day with a brutal headache and stomach-turning nausea. He could safely assume that he wasn't going to school, because it was 10am and his mother hadn't chased him out of bed. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten himself home, but then he wasn't really sure about anything that had happened the night before. He clearly recalled taking shots from bottle caps and Otabek being a jerk about him smoking. After that the details got sketchy and he could only very vaguely remember his hair being plaited (he checked his hair now to discover that it was still in place, if a little mussed up) and truth or dare. Right, and Otabek kissing Rafael. That had been one of the odder moments of the night and he questioned his memory at this point. How could he be sure it hadn't really been Amira or Denver? Then again, why was he so hung up over this- was he just really homophobic? Maybe he was okay with the idea of it but when it was real it disgusted him. He didn't think this could be the case, however, because he took no issue with either of them liking guys. If they did, that was. He knew full well that people can end up doing regrettable things whilst drunk. It was just Otabek. He couldn't think why, but it was something specifically to do with the fact that it was Otabek. His brows knitted together as he tried to piece together the fragments of memory telling him what happened after it went blurry. As he did so, he subconsciously twiddled the ends of his hair. This brought flooding back a hazy memory of somebody- Otabek- running their hands through his hair. Was that when he was still sat on the swing? No, because he'd had the plait by the point of the mini flashback. After, then? That had to be why it was so messy and falling apart... In a frenzy, he grabbed his phone and dialled Otabek's number without thinking. He picked up on the third ring, answering with a gravelly voice accompanied by a tired groan.   
'Nothing weird happened last night, did it?' Yuri demanded, leaving no time for idle chat.   
'Define weird.'  
'Between us.'  
'What? Not to my knowledge... Don't you remember?'  
'No,' He bit his lip, a little embarrassed that he'd been so inebriated. To be fair, he'd been drinking on a very empty stomach. He never really counted liquid calories because they seemed so distant and conceptual compared to solid food sliding down his throat.   
'Not surprising- you were absolutely catatonic. I practically carried you home.'  
'Oh.' That explained the mystery of how he was home safe.  
'How are you feeling now?'  
'Shit. In dire need of aspirin, but my mum has probably gone to work by now and I'm too lazy to get it myself.'  
'Want me to come over?'  
'Hmm? No, of course not. You're probably just as hungover as I am.'  
'Precisely. And I find being hungover with somebody else is much nicer than being alone. Are you at home?'  
'Yeah, but-'  
'Also, I left my jacket there. It's settled. See you in an hour, okay?'  
Yuri groaned and hung up, not sure how he'd been so quickly coerced into socialising and dreading having to drag himself out of bed to get dressed. In the end, he just did his best to pull the plait out of his hair and brushed his teeth lazily, making sure to spit up every last bit of toothpaste so as not to ingest any unnecessary calories.   
He inspected his ashen face in the mirror, poking at his awful bags. He both despised and adored being hungover like this; it meant feeling full to the point of sickness. On the one hand, this would put him off food for a day at least. On the other, he loathed feeling full because it made him fat. His stomach was bloated when he looked down at it, and he stared at it in the bathroom mirror for so long that his vision blurred. His distended stomach sure did look odd considering his ribs were still prominently visible, as were his hipbones. He didn't understand how they could jut out in such a way when he remained obstinately overweight. He washed his face in an attempt to freshen up, but there was nothing he could do about his haggard looks and he didn't much care because he never looked much better anyway. He peeled himself away from the mirror and changed into one of his characteristic oversized sweaters, pairing it with sweatpants and a somber expression. He kind of looked like he'd been hit by a bus, but he'd have to settle for it. He veered this way and that as he stumbled down the stairs, clinging to the banisters for dear life until he reached the bottom. Once there, he hobbled like a zombie into the sitting room and lay down on the couch, pulling a blanket over himself and closing his eyes. At least this way he was close to the door so he'd hear it when it went.   
He got an hour and a half's sleep, because Otabek had struggled walking down in the bitter, frigid temperatures of Spring. He still had too much alcohol content in his blood to drive so he'd played it safe and walked, despite being positively frozen when he rang the doorbell. Yuri winced as he dragged himself from the sofa to open the door, allowing Otabek to bustle in and immediately put the kettle on.   
'Did you have any painkillers yet?' He asked as he rifled through the cupboards to find mugs and teabags.   
'No.'  
'Here,' Otabek pulled a packet of paracetamol from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. Yuri swallowed two gratefully. 'You can dry swallow?'  
'Yeah, you can't?'  
'No!'  
'You just swallow. Doesn't taste great, though.'  
'That's what she said,' Otabek quipped as the kettle boiled and he finished making the tea. Yuri laughed and took his mug, holding it tightly and waiting for it to warm his chilled bones up. He was always so damn cold that even a steaming hot mug of tea wasn't enough to keep his fingers from retaining their grey-blue pallor. They sat back on the sofa he'd just been napping on, and Otabek noticed how closely he huddled into the blanket.   
'Are you cold?'  
'Mm-hmm,' He grimaced, and Otabek scooted up next to him, wrapping his warm arms around him.   
'Your hair looks nice curly.'  
Yuri wasn't listening, though, because he was dozing blissfully, eyes closed and body relaxed. Otabek lay him down and snuggled up behind him, tucking the blanket tightly around him and pulling him into his solid chest to insulate him. Yuri was too tired to protest, and it was nice to bask in the warmth emanating from Otabek, but it did strike him as a little odd. After all, this guy had kissed Rafael the night before. Was he being really problematic if he assumed suddenly that Otabek might be into him? He was only sixteen, after all, and he wasn't exactly much to look at. He didn't really have any redeeming qualities, so he decided that he was just being paranoid. The best thing to do right then was sleep, and it was deceptively easy to do so when he was this cosy. He couldn't decide whether it was coming from the arms around him or the warmth spreading through his stomach, but he liked it. It warmed a place that had been numb for a very long time.


	7. Chapter 7

After watching Yuri sleep became boring and slightly obsessive, Otabek carefully slipped away from him and went upstairs to bring him a duvet to maintain his warmth. Once in Yuri's room, he got quickly sidetracked by the trinkets and tchotchkes on his windowsill. He picked up a minute jar of glitter, half the size of his little finger and labelled 'Pixie Dust'. He twisted out the cap and tipped a little onto his fingers, inspecting it and holding it up to the light. He rubbed his finger against his thumb to dispel it, and it flickered as it fell to the floor. Next he picked up a tattered old photo, one that was fading to yellow. It was a garish scene that, upon inspection of the cursive script scrawled on the back, was from a year and a half ago. He flipped it back over and stared at the picture once more. It was of Yuri holding an ice cream on a beach and sticking his tongue out. He looked happy- he looked healthy. What had changed since this photo and then? Where his eyes had used to be bright and laughing, they were now sunken, dark and subtended by bags the colour of storm clouds. In the picture, he was a normal weight. His legs didn't look like twigs, his wrists weren't so tiny they might snap any second and his cheeks were filled out, slightly pink from the sun. He slowly put it back down, his hand shaking a little. Why had everything become so awful for him in so short a time? There wasn't really any way of helping Yuri if he didn't know where all of this stemmed from, but he didn't know how to find out. It would be useless to attempt to prove it out of him as he was an expert at clamming up, and he would probably start crying anyway- a sight that never failed to tug on Otabek's heartstrings. He searched the room with his eyes for any clues, but found nothing. What had he expected- a notebook labelled 'why I hate myself and became anorexic'? Frustrated by the situation, he sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. He felt so powerless, and it certainly wasn't a position he enjoyed. He always knew what to do; he'd always been able to help people. Surely he could do it again now. When he returned downstairs, Yuri was sitting up and yawning, rubbing his bleary eyes and smiling at him slowly.   
'Hey,' His voice was lower than usual and caught in his throat.   
'Feel a bit better?' Otabek sat down next to him, realising he'd clean forgotten to bring the duvet and it had been a wasted trip.   
'Much better,' Yuri nodded, wincing as it felt like his brain was hitting against his skull. 'How long was I asleep?'  
'I don't know. An hour, maybe. Do you want some food?' Otabek knew it was a loaded question, but it was past his lips before he could stop them. Yuri shook his head silently, not bothering to offer an excuse this time. He just lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, tracing the cracks with his eyes. His shirt had ridden up to expose his harshly protrudent hipbones and his stomach that was terrifyingly concave. It was honestly scary to see him looking like this, like he would crumble with just the slightest touch.   
'You have to eat,' He tried desperately to keep the pleading tone from his voice, but it was to no avail. Again, he received no reply.   
Yuri laid his hand against his stomach, feeling how swollen it was from the alcohol he had ingested. When he pressed it, it felt solid and he assumed it was turgid from liquid calories. Otabek trying to persuade him to eat was only making matters worse and reminding him that he should have kept his mouth closed as usual and not let himself be weak enough to get fatter. He couldn't formulate an answer that would excuse his lack of appetite, because even as he shook his head solemnly his stomach growled loudly.   
'I don't care if you want to or not,' There was an edge to Otabek's voice he hadn't heard before and it made him feel more than a little threatened. He couldn't handle being coerced into eating because he was so damn weak that he'd end up eating everything and feeling terrible about it- quite rightly so- for days after. Once he started eating, he couldn't stop and he'd find it impossible to get back into the mindset of starving himself. He had no self control around food and this was possibly something he hated more than his body. He had a terrible relationship with both his image and his lack of restraint. He tried as hard as he could to fall back asleep so as to avoid eating, but try as he might his brain was now working overtime to tell him he couldn't eat and it refused to switch off for even a moment. Otabek returned with slices of apple and set it down on the coffee table, sitting down next to him and pulling him gently into an upright position.   
'I'm not eating it,' Yuri stated firmly.   
'Yuri, it's just-'  
'No, to you it's just an apple. You don't see it like I do; you can eat things without hating yourself for it, you can see yourself as you are in the mirror, you can wake up in the morning without thinking about how exactly you're going to starve yourself today!'  
'I know it's hard for you, but you have to try!'  
'Why the fuck would I want to try? I don't think you understand that the only thing I'm trying to do is lose some weight; I don't want to get better.'   
'Why?'  
'Because my mind is sick, not my body! My mind is who I am, and who I am is somebody who wants to lose weight. You understand the word want, right? I just want to be thin!' Yuri stood up, his head spinning and tears squeezing from his eyes as he shouted. He didn't mean to be so harsh, but it needed to be said. He was sick to death of people trying to make him 'better' when he didn't want recovery in the first place.   
'Even if it kills you?'   
Yuri could tell Otabek said this with the intention of shocking him, but he hadn't anticipated the answer.   
'Even if it kills me. God, it would be a relief if it killed me. Then at least I could say I was really sick.'   
'Do you really mean that?' Otabek asked quietly, tears in his eyes now too. Yuri hadn't been thinking straight when he'd said it- all he'd been thinking about was getting him to leave him alone, but now that he was so visibly upset he felt awful. 'Do you really, honestly mean that?'  
Yuri nodded again wordlessly, tears dripping from his cheeks and splashing onto the carpet. He walked forwards and allowed Otabek's arms to mantle around his small frame, resting his head on his solid chest and taking a deep, shaky breath.   
'I'm sorry,' He whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke any louder. Otabek held him tighter and rocked him from side to side, the gentle swaying rocking him closer to calmness until the tears finally ceased and he was able to stand on his own. They untangled awkwardly and Yuri dropped back onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. He didn't really know what he was doing anymore, but his barriers were beginning to weaken and the apple was starting to look appetising. He had to get himself away before he was pathetic and weak-willed enough to- he picked up an apple slice and held it up to his face, inspecting it. An apple was barely any calories, right? And he could surely make up for it by starving for the next 48 hours. Otabek rejoined him on the sofa, not uttering a word. Instead, he put a reassuring hand on his back, rubbing up and down to comfort him. Yuri put the apple to his lips, but still he did not bite into it. When he breathed in he could taste the sweetness and it was intoxicating to his starved mind that screamed at him both to eat it and to run a mile. The weaker side was appealing to him by claiming that a single slice of apple couldn't hurt, but he knew this was a lie. That one slice would lead to two and soon he'd have eaten all of it. An entire apple of this size was roughly 81 calories, which was 81 calories too much. He couldn't help himself though; he bit into it, closing his eyes as he did so in order to savour the succulent taste as much as he could. It took real courage to swallow it, but after that it was easy. His binging, lazy side took over and he ate two more slices as quietly as he could, feeling embarrassed to be eating in front of somebody, especially Otabek.   
Otabek was inexplicably glad to see Yuri eat something for the first time, even if it was just something tiny. It was a step in the right direction and that was all he needed to see. Yuri finished the third slice and pushed the others away, his eyes flashing with pain. He looked up and Otabek met his eyes. They were shining with a tangible agony, one that Otabek couldn't stand to see. He laced a hand through his long blond hair, tangling his fingers into it without really thinking about it.   
'What are you-?'  
'Was that so hard?' Otabek murmured, their faces so close Yuri could practically feel his breath hot on his lips. Their proximity was giving him pangs of anxiety and it was beginning to make him feel weird, like his stomach muscles were knitting together and twisting inside of his skin.   
'H-horrible,' He stammered, unsure of what to do in a situation such as this one.   
'Can I try something?' Otabek inched a little closer, his eyes searching Yuri's for something he could not fathom.   
'I... Yeah.'   
Then Otabek's hand inched further round his head and drew him in closer until their lips touched and Yuri felt his insides revolt. Otabek's taught posture softened as he put a hand either side of Yuri's waist and pressed his lips firmer against his mouth. Yuri stiffened, every muscle in his body going tight and paralysing him to the spot as Otabek's mouth slowly coaxed his own open. This wasn't quite what he had expected. It didn't feel bad, necessarily, but then it didn't feel good either. It just felt strange, because he'd never been kissed by a boy before. Otabek gently pulled away and rested his forehead against Yuri's, the both of them breathing hard and pink in the cheeks.   
'No,' Yuri picked his head up and folded his arms across his chest awkwardly as if in the hope that they would protect him from any other advances.   
'What? You kissed me ba-'  
'No, I'm sorry, I can't- I can't do this. You should go.'   
Otabek gave him a last confused and dejected look before disappearing out the door without a further word. Yuri felt terrible about his forced abrupt departure but he couldn't handle what had just happened. He touched a finger to his lips, feeling how sharply they tingled like they'd been infused with an electric current of their own. It was probably due to how electrifying that kiss had been for him and how much he had enjoyed it, whether or not he would admit it to himself. Otabek's mouth moving against his own, his hands on his waist- it was all so intoxicating and far too much. It teetered dangerously close to making him happy, and this contentment filled him with a bone-deep fear because with happiness often came self acceptance and he would rather be thin and miserable than 'healthy' and happy. He couldn't allow that to happen; he was comfortable residing in utter misery. It was all he knew, and it was all he had.


	8. Chapter 8

Yuri couldn't get the kiss off of his mind. It seemed as if every time he closed his eyes to blink or to sleep he was accosted by images and sensations not familiar to him. He felt Otabek's hands lingering on his waist again, his fingers holding him so gently and yet being so solid and safe. He tasted his lips against his own, warm and slow-moving. He couldn't get rid of the taste of it. He saw flashes of Otabek kissing Rafael and he now realised that the biting in his stomach hadn't been due to disgust, but jealousy. He couldn't rid himself of that picture either. He didn't know what any of it had meant; Otabek had only asked to try it. Was he trying to figure things out after kissing Rafael? Or was Yuri just another giggly kind of drunk thing like that? It was entirely possible that Otabek had still been drunk from the night before. This dominated his thoughts as he walked to school the next day, meaning he was distracted for the while from the storm that would inevitably be brewing for him there. When he saw the gates, the realisation settled over him and he was unable to walk a step further, his feet gluing themselves to the pavement opposite. That was when his friends began calling him from across the street, having waited for him at the gate like they usually did. He was pretty surprised because he had been completely ignoring them on every social media platform, so he'd assumed they were done with his bullshit.   
'Yuri, come here!' Guang Hong called, and at first he wanted to pretend he hadn't heard, but seeing their faces looking so concerned ignited the sickening hunger for validation within him and he diligently crossed the street to join them. They didn't mention a thing for the first few lessons, although he could sense a lot of eyes on his back wherever he walked. Once it got to lunch hour, however, he knew they'd kick up a stink- and they did. The second the bell rang for lunch a firm hand was gripping his shoulder and steering him down to the canteen, where food was piled onto his plate without a word or autonomy. He just stood and stared haplessly until somebody dragged him to a table and sat him down with it.   
'I don't want this,' He grumbled, not even daring to look at it. The idea of eating in front of so many people- especially now they knew he had anorexia and he felt strangely obliged to make sure they didn't think he was eating or that he was a fake- struck him with a sense of cold panic.   
'Guang Hong told us what you said,' Michele said this awkwardly, not meeting his eyes. It wasn't the kind of thing guys would talk about to each other and Michele didn't exactly want to be playing therapist to his friend. 'So, uhh... Eat it.'  
'If you don't, I swear to god I'll force it down your throat,' Mila threatened with unbridled menace.   
'I'm not hungry,' He bargained, his leg beginning to bounce with agitation.   
'Yes you are.'  
'I just... I feel sick,' He dropped his head in his hands, delivering an oscar-worthy performance of nausea by rubbing his eyes lethargically then screwing them shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Can you guys..?' He trailed off, waving vaguely at the tray to indicate that he wanted them to clear it away.   
'You feel ill because you're hungry,' Mila pushed the tray closer to him. 'So eat.'  
'No, I-'  
'No more bullshit excuses!' She slammed a hand down on the table, towering over him and her eyes burning a hole in his skull. The sudden noise brought the room almost to a hush, and for a moment everybody turned to stare at the commotion.   
'I'm going to the nurse,' Yuri whispered, standing up and keeping his eyes trained to the floor, not looking back as he stalked towards the door.   
'Yuri, wait!' Mila jogged after him and grabbed him by the arm as he walked as fast as he could down the hallway in the opposite direction of the nurse's office. 'Jesus, I could snap your arm.'  
He ignored her, tearing away and continuing to walk.   
'Come on, come back,' She called, not giving up the chase. 'We're just worried about you.'   
'I'm fine, honestly,' He forced a smile, shrugging like he wasn't about to throw up from nerves. 'I was only kidding. I'm fine.'   
For some bizarre reason, he wanted her to know he wasn't kidding. Maybe it was his sick obsession with validation- he got a twisted kick out of people looking at him and seeing him as ill. It made a difference to how he regarded himself. He wanted them to be terrified for him, but to look upon him with a strange sense of awe. He craved that fear for him; it made a difference to how he regarded himself. He felt like people cared about him, even if only because they were a little envious of how thin he was determined to get. He could see it in the girls a lot- they often tried to match his portion sizes, and he was glad he wasn't a girl because they had much worse restrictions and expectations placed on them. If anything, he actually would prefer that bodily oppression because then he would be encouraged to lose weight rather than gain muscle and be the typical strong man all the girls supposedly fell for. Those strong men in turn fell for the skinny girls with hourglass waists and a thigh gap. Thinking about it, hadn't a guy fallen for him? Was that how it worked? He often perceived weight as the most influential marker for anybody looking at him and he couldn't see past anybody's weight himself. Looking at everybody else, he didn't see them as fat. Some of them he was gleeful that he was skinnier than them (although sometimes he convinced himself that his eyes were lying and he was bigger than everyone) and some of them he compared himself to and ordered himself to get smaller than them. All these monstrous mind games were wreaking havoc with his friendships, but he couldn't escape the vicious cycle. The ugly truth of it all was that he couldn't stand to be around most people because he hated being seen. He felt disgusting. They all probably looked at him and wondered if he was supposedly anorexic, then why was he so fat? Surely he ought to have been skinny if he was passing out? These malicious thoughts overwhelmed his vision like a pestilential swarm and he gripped at his sides as if trying to hold himself together. It did nothing to quell the rumbling within his stomach, the darkness within demanding food. He wouldn't give in to its pleading. He was stronger than that- he could last a day or two at least before he ate again. Even then, he would not binge eat. He would have a small snack to sustain himself, but what then? Would the cycle of restrict, snack, restrict, snack and so forth continue? He couldn't foresee himself losing weight like that. Those small snacks still had calories in, and calories meant fat. He knew that his body was already going into starvation mode again and that if he ate anything at all his body would store it and he'd gain weight exponentially. The only answer that remained was to never eat again (unfortunately, very unrealistic because he was pathetic and couldn't be persuaded to withhold himself from food for more than a few days at most) or to exercise it off. He had read about people overexercising, but he'd never really tried it because he was lazy and hated to put the effort in. Starving was painful but it was passive. He didn't have to do anything- in fact, it was an absence of doing something and thus much easier than burning the calories he so religiously avoided.   
'Why won't you talk to me?' Mila placed a hand on his arm and he flinched, blinking hard and gritting his teeth. 'Fine. Point taken.' She left him stood alone in the corridor, and he got the feeling he was going to be alone for quite some time. 

 

Yuri had thought it was painful to deny food when people tried to force him to eat it, but what hurt the most was actually the way everybody so easily subsided and left him to his own devices. They didn't care anymore. The next day nobody really talked to him and he was abandoned at lunch, so he just sat in the classroom and flicked through his phone, avoiding his texts like the plague because he had about ten from Otabek that he hadn't yet read. The number remained there over the weekend, but he missed three calls from him and it made him feel incredibly guilty. It wasn't his fault though- Otabek had kissed him, after all. All the drama at school had distracted him from that, and on Monday morning in registration it was all at once the only thing that he could think about. He couldn't help but look about and wonder what everybody sat in the form room would think if they knew he'd kissed a boy. Been kissed by a boy. He hadn't initiated it- did it still count that way? He definitely didn't like Otabek back, anyway. Pretty much definitely. He was almost entirely sure, in fact, that he liked girls. Okay, so he'd never had a crush on any and he'd not once felt interested in any of the girls he knew. Not even the supposedly beautiful women on TV or his friends inappropriate magazines did anything for him. He had himself convinced, however, that it was just a phase he'd grow into. He wasn't gay, just not in a dating mindset yet. He had exams on his mind and- he gave up that train of thought quickly. Exams were not on his mind; that damn kiss was. Was it because it had been Otabek, somebody he looked up to? Also, he was nineteen. There was a massive age gap- three years. He could get a degree in that amount of time. Above all of this, he didn't want a romantic interest. He couldn't have one. It would make him start to think about somebody else and that might just kill him... It wasn't worth the mental anguish of trying to impress somebody. He was already forcing himself into one mold, he couldn't handle another. This was all fine though, because he wasn't interested in Otabek.   
'Yuri, would you like to share what you're thinking so intently about?' Mrs. Saab, their support tutor, rapped on his desk with a metre ruler, her eyes flashing with irritation.   
'Not class appropriate,' He quipped and the class erupted into giggles, meaning within half a second a detention slip landed on his desk. He groaned and tucked it into his bag, not really intending to go. At lunch hour, finding that he had it all to himself once again, he found Mr. DG to talk to him about the detention.   
'I have a doctor's appointment,' He lied through his teeth, rubbing the back of his neck.   
'Oh, why didn't you tell her?'   
'Because I didn't want to talk about it,' Yuri knew he was terrible for these lies, but he hated detention. It was always quiet moments like then that his stomach decided it was a perfect time to growl loudly and it always made for some humiliation.   
'Of course. I'll talk to her and explain, you can go home.'  
He grinned to himself as he walked away, half grateful for the disease that had invaded his life. He returned to the classroom and sat there for a while, staring at the clock and willing the hours to pass. This they did as they were required to do, but with a vengeful lethargy that rendered him sluggish and exhausted when the final bell rang to signal the end of the day. He could barely entice himself out of the gates to begin the suddenly too long walk home, and even then he made it about halfway before he made a detour to the park and sat on one of the swings, thinking about the last time he'd sat on them. Otabek had been running his hands through his hair, plaiting it for him. He'd called him gay, and he regretted the cruel intentions behind the word now. If it hadn't turned out that Otabek was (most likely) gay, would he care? It was something of an eye-opener for him. He needed to try to be a better person.   
It was easy to think like this with the untimely spring sun warming his back and making him squint against its brightness, blurring the blue horizon into one mass of swirling cloud and sky. He closed his eyes and swung back and forth slowly, allowing the heat of the sun to permeate his core and warm his icy body mercifully. He relished what peace he could before his phone began to ring, his mother's name flashing up. She'd become even more flustered recently, constantly ringing him to check that he was okay and not feeling faint or anything. She'd booked him another appointment at the hospital and this time they were going to do a blood check and weigh-in again, which he was nervous for. The last time he'd had one, he'd had much more notice for it and he'd been able to trick the system a little. He stuffed weights deep into his pockets and water-loaded beforehand, forcing gallons of water down his throat until he'd gained a few pounds from it. The water retention had been hell to get past for a few days, but it was better than the doctors becoming more concerned. They had threatened him with hospitalisation the last time he'd been, but he was refusing treatment and since he was mentally capable they had to allow it. It wasn't as if he even needed it- it would be downright embarrassing to be stuck on a ward with people who were so much thinner and sicker than he was.   
He answered the phone, not wanting to put it off any longer.   
'Are you on your way home?'  
'Yeah,' He sighed and stood up to brush himself off. 'There in five.'  
'Okay, because your friend is here.'  
'Which one?' This came as a surprise to him after the way they'd been treating him the past few days. If they wanted to talk to him, why couldn't they just do it at school and save all this fuss?   
'Otabek. I said he could stay for dinner.'   
'I ate on the way back from school already,' He said this with an expert faux apologetic tone.   
'Just come home, okay? I'll see you in a minute.'  
He walked slowly, trying to dispel the image from his mind's eye of Otabek's lips pressed against his own. What would he say after ignoring him for so long? What could he possibly want? Did he need to apologise? All this and more was whipping through his head as he stepped through the front door and dumped his bag in the hallway before slinking into the kitchen. Otabek was talking to his mother, who was laughing at whatever amusing anecdote he was narrating to her. He looked up, and when their eyes caught Yuri felt his heart jump into his throat and beat its syncopated rhythm harder than ever before.   
'Dinner will be ready in half an hour,' His mum told them, and Otabek thanked her again.   
'Uhh, we can go to my room,' Yuri gestured to the stairs and Otabek followed him up them to his room, not speaking but his expression betraying half his feelings for him. Yuri sat on his bed and crossed his legs, pressing his hands against his feet and straightening his arms.   
'I'm sorry,' Otabek began the conversation. There was no need to specify to what he was referring to. 'I thought there was something there wasn't.'  
Yuri unfurled himself and stood up, looking Otabek dead in the eye. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do next, but what he did certainly didn't match what he had originally intended for the direction of the conversation they needed to have. He stretched up on his tiptoes and kissed him, surprised again by how warm and soft his lips were. Otabek froze for a moment, his hands flying up before he realised he loved it and they came to rest on Yuri's frail arms.   
'What took you so long?' He muttered, pulling away momentarily to look down at a deep red coloured Yuri.   
'I had some thinking to do,' Yuri shrugged, and Otabek kissed him again.   
'Is this okay?' He asked again and again, and each time Yuri had to reassure him that it was just fine. Otabek's lips graduated from his mouth down his jaw to his neck, tilting his head back with his hands and kissing the base of his throat. His warm tongue pressed against the skin and Yuri accidentally let slip a quiet moan. Otabek smirked and allowed his teeth to graze his neck, making him squirm again and grip at the muscles that bulged in his arms.   
Yuri had forgotten that he was kissing a boy and that it was Otabek and that he was three years older; all that was on his mind was that it felt so good and he didn't want to stop. When finally Otabek stepped back and the moment was over, he was the colour of beetroot.   
'You're blushing,' Otabek smiled down at him, patting his cheek. 'It's kind of adorable.'  
Yuri didn't really know what to say- what could he say? He was about to formulate a reply when his mother called them down for dinner. He ducked his head and went to go for the door, but was stopped in his tracks by Otabek grabbing him by the collar and turning him around, folding up half the collar of his shirt.   
'What are you doing?' Yuri frowned, doing his best to try and look at the collar. 'Oh.'  
There was a small vermillion mark adorning his neck, one that he knew would inevitably turn purple and be a cause of much embarrassment at school the next day. Fortunately he could conceal it easily from his mother with Otabek's strategic collar-folding, but he couldn't get away with the same tactic at school thanks to strict dress codes. He sat down and prodded at the fish on his plate, ignoring the constant glances he was getting from Otabek and his mother as they discussed this and that, just generic small talk. He placed the food into little piles so that it looked like he'd eaten more than he had (which was at most two bites- and he made sure that they were looking at him for both of them) and every time they looked over he pretended to be lifting a forkful to his mouth but put it back down the second they looked away.   
'You didn't eat anything,' Otabek leaned down to whisper in his ear as he threw his food away once dinner was over, making him jump.   
'Yeah I did,' Yuri snapped defensively. 'You saw me.'  
'I think you ate one mouthful.'   
'So what?'  
'So that's not good.'  
'Did you expect me to be happy suddenly just because you kissed me?'  
'No, but-'  
'Please don't talk about it.'  
'Okay. Let's talk about something else- tell me about your life.'  
And so, they returned upstairs and Yuri told Otabek everything about his life up until a year or so before he'd contracted anorexia. He didn't really want to get into the gory details of that. He was pleased to notice that Otabek avoided the conversation just as deftly, but whether it was down to empathy or uncomfortableness with the topic he was unsure. Either way, they didn't even realise it had become late until Yuri's mother had to ask if Otabek was staying over.   
'Oh, no. Wouldn't wish to impose,' Otabek shook his head, smiling up at her and charming her socks off. 'I'd best be going, then.'   
She left them to it and when she was gone, Otabek bent over to kiss Yuri goodbye, meaning Yuri was so flustered he could barely return the farewell.   
When he went to sleep that night, for the first time in a while he didn't dream about goal weights and starving and thigh gaps. Instead, he dreamed of a warm pair of lips and hands in his hair.


	9. Chapter 9

'What's been going on with you lately?' Rafael nudged Otabek gently. They were sat in Rafael's tiny student housing and for the past few days, Otabek had been very distant and oblivious to everything. It probably had something to do with the fact that it was also a few days since Yuri had kissed him. It played on his mind a lot, mainly because he felt massively conflicted about the whole ordeal. On the one hand, he really liked Yuri and now that there was certainty in a return of feelings he wanted to pursue it. On the other, Yuri was just sixteen. Legally able to make decisions, yes, but still three years younger than him. Only just sixteen, too. The only problem was he found it impossible to tell him no because he had no happiness in his life so to deny him anything felt like a cardinal sin of the highest order. They'd been lazily texting each other every now and then, just quick check-ins; nothing that suggested any progression in their relationship. So they had kissed a few times- did that mean anything had changed?   
It was thoughts such as these that held his attention with a vice-like grip, not relinquishing its hold until Rafael pointed it out to him.   
'A lot,' Otabek shrugged, running a hand through his hair and trying to fix it into place again. 'Yuri, mainly.'  
'Oh, that guy at the park? He was okay.'   
'Right?'  
'You're into him?'  
Obviously Otabek's intimations hadn't been very subtle.   
'I guess, yeah.'   
'Is he into you?'  
'Yeah.'  
'Isn't he only a kid, though?'  
'Sixteen. So yeah, a kid. I feel terrible about it... He's not even mature for his age. Does that make me a creep?'  
'I can't tell you what to do,' Rafael stated apologetically. 'Do what you think's right.'  
'I don't know what's right.'  
'I don't know, follow your heart.'  
'I'm so confused with what my heart wants! I want to make him happy, but I don't want to corrupt him. I can't abandon him though,' He got the idea that dropping him would only make his sickness worse, and he couldn't take the guilt if it should have any adverse effect on Yuri. He still had his heroism complex and wanted nothing more than to save this waif of a kid from himself.   
'I don't think you're that special,' Rafael chuckled, a teasing tone entering the conversation. 'The kid can survive a little heartbreak.'  
'I don't know that he can; he's anorexic. He's been in a bad way and I'm worried that I might push him over the edge,' He couldn't keep the slight tremor from his voice, and Rafael squeezed his arm in camaraderie.   
'You can't force yourself to like him just because you don't want to hurt his feelings.'  
'But I do like him!'  
'Then there's your answer. You're both consenting, able-minded people. How bad is it?'  
'How bad is wh- oh. Bad, really bad. He tries to cover it up and distract me, but I've seen the times he's coughed up blood.'  
Thinking about it brought both tears to his eyes and bile rising up his throat; he saw how desperate Yuri was to hide it, but that half hour sat outside his bathroom listening to him torturing himself had been possibly one of the worst moments of his life. He'd been just seconds away from breaking down the door, and when Yuri had finally emerged looking like some apparition of death, it had greatly disturbed Otabek to see the blood beading at the corner of his lip and staining the lines of his palm. The last he'd seen him, too, his mouth had tasted faintly of blood. Perhaps he'd been imagining it, or maybe he'd bitten his lip in anxiety. That wasn't the half of it, however- holding him was scary. He wanted to touch him, but each time he did his fingers were met with solid bone and they quickly retracted again in perturbation. You only had to look at him to see he was treading a cautious line along the verge of death.   
'Are you really crying?' Rafael half-laughed, but it was an exclamation of companionship rather than one of a sardonic nature.   
'No, I'm-' Otabek smiled and wiped his hazy lashline, clearing his vision some. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. 'I'm not crying. Just a bit emotional, is all.'   
'If anybody can help him, it's you.'   
This encouraging statement did little to revitalise his downcast spirits, but he appreciated it all the same.   
'Don't think about him being sick if it upsets you. Tell me why you like him instead,' Rafael swiftly diverted the conversation to something less miserable. Otabek frowned, his mind attempting to pinpoint something specific. Was it something generic like he made him laugh, or was it more? He failed to come up with a solid answer, but he didn't see this as a lack of things to like. It was the general impression- it was the way he felt that mattered, not why.   
'I just do,' He related, knowing it sounded shaky but able to say nothing else on the matter. 'But god, is it bad. Sixteen... Jesus.'   
'Three years isn't catastrophic. Besides, he's legal, so it's not like-'  
'Ugh. Don't even insinuate anything,' Otabek shuddered. He felt like if he did anything more than gently embrace Yuri he'd snap as easily as a twig. 'He's so innocent.'   
'I used to be innocent,' Rafael fixed him with a dead stare.   
'I'm sorry!' Otabek rolled his eyes. They had a strange history and it was something Rafael liked to bring up constantly. 'Let's just talk about something else, okay?'   
Rafael grunted and left it. They had more important things to sort out anyway- namely Rafael's impending birthday and consequent party. He was planning to go big as he was turning twenty and had decided that this was more important than his mildly disappointing eighteenth. They'd organised it for that Friday night and everybody had been buzzing about it for months since they'd sent out invitations via Facebook. It was going to be huge and Otabek couldn't wait- he'd not been to a party in a few weeks and he was beginning to feel the same itching surge of boredom that made him want to get people drunk and make them tell him their life stories.   
'I have an idea,' Rafael piped up as they ordered red cups and so on. 'You should invite Yuri.'  
'Yuri?' Otabek's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't even thought of that, not for a moment. 'He's sixteen. He can't come.'  
'Too bad. I think he'd like it- you, plied with alcohol, and him able to forget things for a while. He seemed normal to me when I met him, but I think it had something to do with him being drunk.'  
'I don't know, it's...' He didn't want to spin off the same old excuse of wanting to protect him, but that was what it came down to. It didn't seem safe. 'I'll talk to him.'   
'I can keep an eye on him. What's the worst that could happen?' 

After days of being ignored almost unanimously, Yuri had become something of a celebrity once more after mentioning offhandedly that he'd been invited to a party with Otabek. Apparently the parties he went to were crazy- the girls who stalked his Instagram drummed this into him fairly quickly, and once everyone else had started talking to him again somebody had pointed out the hickey. It had quickly spiralled into a virulent and mocking debate within his friends because they were all astonished that a girl had given someone a hickey. Of course they assumed that Yuri had been getting off with a girl. They all pressed him hard for details and he revealed nothing, claiming it was just a common-or-garden bruise. Little did they know...   
'Can you take me as a plus-one?' Minami bugged him, cajoling him with boundless energy.   
'No,' Yuri answered resolutely, the same answer he'd had to give everyone else asking the exact same thing. They only wanted to go so they'd be tagged in a photo and gain followers, so what was the point? Besides, he got the feeling that Otabek didn't just want to dance at the party. He had heard from all his friends all the things they got up to at parties that he missed due to fear that he'd be made to eat or he'd accidentally spill his guts about his mental anguish, and they all made it sound like a massive orgy. Youthful exaggeration of course, but still potent enough imagery that it had Yuri quivering a little in his size-four boots. He couldn't outwardly give voice his concerns to his friends due to Otabek being a guy and all, but he decided to elicit advice by some other means- under the guise of it being a girl he was so worried about.   
'So hypothetically speaking,' He began as they all sat down for lunch, trying to ignore that he again had taken just an apple and was rolling it around the table distractedly with no intent to eat it. 'If there was a girl at this party that may or may not have given me a hickey, would she expect something if I said I'd go with her?'   
'She's friends with Otabek? Must be hot,' Michele grinned, nudging him. 'Of course she'll be expecting something. Girls always do at parties.'  
Yuri was disgruntled by what he said, unable to help but find it more than slightly chauvinist.   
'What would she be expecting?' He twiddled the stalk of the apple around, watching it spin.   
'What do you think?'  
'Umm, I don't know. That's why I'm asking.'  
'Sex, probably. It's just what you do if a girl wants to see you at a party. You're such a massive virgin, I can't believe you have to ask.'   
Yuri joined in with the raucous laughter, but underneath the jovial façade he was quaking with fear. He didn't really want to do anything, but if Otabek was expecting it, how could he not? He didn't want to disappoint, nor did he want to ruin Otabek's night. Also troubling him, although slightly further back in his mind where he tried to contain it before it could pierce him too far, was the main reason for his fear; he was desperately plain. There was nothing of interest about him. Otabek could have his pick of the lot- why didn't he go for Rafael? The two seemed to get along (very well given what had happened at the park) and Rafael was better looking and, Yuri did not hesitate to think, had a better body. He had to maintain his interest as best as he could manage and the only way he could think of doing this was to offer himself up like a sacrificial virgin. It certainly felt that way given his disinclination to engage in anything, but what choice did he have? It wasn't as if he was armed with a charming, beguiling personality or looks to any degree. He wouldn't say his face was ugly but his body was a turnoff if ever there was one. The idea of baring his fat-infested skin was torturous. He couldn't stand the thought of Otabek seeing the disgusting excesses of his stomach or how wide and highly his thunder thighs were. He had to lose some weight before the party, whatever the means and whatever the cost. 

 

Yuri looked worse than usual when Otabek picked him up late Friday evening. He looked somehow frighteningly adorable in an oversized sweater, something characteristic of him, and black jeans. He was wearing little black biker boots and despite the fact that he again looked like Death personified he looked gorgeous. Otabek would have to keep a close eye on him at the party- both because he looked like he'd had a rough few days and because people would probably be throwing themselves at him. The way they could attack impressionable newbies like a ferocious pack of hyenas often perturbed him. He'd seen it before; some new kid with a pretty face gets invited and within a few hours they're almost knocked out with alcohol and possibly drugs and somebody is trying to drag them off to a nearby bedroom. Otabek had stopped this happening every time he'd seen it, although it made him sick to think that there might have been times he hadn't because he'd not been there or he'd been looking away.   
'How do you feel?' Was his first question. He knew the answer would be a lie but it felt like a social rite of passage and therefore he was obliged to enquire after his health, even if the answer was obvious in the sallow tones of Yuri's face.   
'Fine,' He mumbled, his fingers intertwining together and clenching hard.   
'Nervous?'  
'Hmm?'  
'I get it. Don't worry, I'll look after you.'   
Oh, thanks,' Yuri hadn't been thinking of that. He'd been thinking of what he knew he had to do. It struck him as odd that he didn't want to do anything because from an early age he'd been told by all his friends and the media that sex was the goal, the key element to a relationship. Men on panel shows talking about how much they wanted it, men chasing after women in films, all his friends talking about it. Hell, even virginity was frowned upon for boys- he remembered that he'd been called virgin as an insult earlier. On the other hand, he knew a lot of girls who had been hounded relentlessly for it. How was it fair that boys expected sex from them, yet when they got it they labelled the girls as 'sluts' and 'easy'? The answer was simple- double standards. Irreversible and as old as time.   
'You look angry,' Otabek observed, taking one hand off the wheel to flick a hair hair into place, checking it in the wing mirror. Yuri offered no explanation, instead just staring at him across the car. He kept forgetting that damn kiss. Him. Otabek. More than once. Hickeys. It just wouldn't sink in, however hard he thought about it. With this came a new thought that somehow had not occurred to him yet; he was into boys, and therefore this required openness on his behalf- meaning at some point he'd have to tell his friends. His mother. He hated to disappoint her even more, but it seemed that this was all he was good at these days. With mild amusement he noted to himself that he was becoming more like a girl by the day; first he was obsessed with his body image and had developed anorexia, of all things, as a result, and now he was kissing boys. Not just kissing them- enjoying it. And there would be more in a few hours, he hesitated to add as an uncomfortable afterthought. He didn't really know where they stood, though. Was this a committal thing? Did it have a name? He didn't even noticed that the car had stopped until Otabek prodded him gently, snapping him from his reverie. His eyes swivelled to take in their surroundings. They were outside a pokey little cottage, far from any other houses. There was already music playing, so loud it was vibrating the windows of the car and Yuri felt cold trepidation as they walked up to the house, Otabek having produced a sizeable bottle of coconut rum seemingly from out of nowhere. Apparently sensing Yuri's anxiety, he put an arm round his shoulder and squeezed him reassuringly. Yuri ducked out of the way, blushing furiously.   
'It's okay,' Otabek had to raise his voice to be heard over the music, despite not even being at the door yet. 'Nobody here cares.'   
Yuri opened his mouth to reply but before he could speak Rafael had opened the door and was waving vigorously.   
'Hey!' He yelled, swaying slightly on his feet which signified he was already more than a little inebriated. 'Get in here and give me that alcohol!'   
He grabbed him by the cheeks and planted a kiss on his forehead, emphasising how short he actually was. Yuri denied to himself that he felt jealousy, but it was a pang of envy he knew well. It wasn't as if they hadn't kissed before...   
'And Yuri! Come on, you come with me,' Rafael held out his hand and Yuri took it with great hesitation. The second he did, he was yanked through a tangled mass of bodies into a kitchen where there was a vast array of food and an even wilder variety of alcohol.   
'Okay, we have spirits, alcos, beer, cider- nope, we've run out- Tomàs, did you find the other crate? There's also some Malibu there, Kate's got the last of the wine, sorry, but this should do it,' Rafael finished listing it off, although there was much more to choose from than he said, and handed Yuri a glass of punch to start him off.   
'I don't think-' Otabek tried to intercept but he was just in time to see Yuri tip it down his throat with reckless abandon. 'Right.'   
He picked up a drink himself, not really caring about the taste but more concentrating on the highest percentage he could find. He settled on Bacardi and drunk what he could without wanting to get so bad he couldn't think for himself. He needed to keep an eye out for Yuri, who had just finished his second glass of punch.   
'What's the ratio of the punch?' Otabek yelled to Rafael over the pounding bass of the dance music he was blaring.   
'Umm... Sirabhi made it. 80% of it's gin I think.'   
'That's enough of that, then,' Otabek plucked the glass from Yuri's small hands. 'You can have beer, that's it.'   
Yuri was too nervous to argue and picked up a can of beer. For some reason, carbonated drinks seemed less calorifically dense than flat. After he'd finished it, Otabek took him by the hand and led him to where a small crowd of people were dancing on furniture and pulled him up onto a sofa. Yuri giggled as he was twirled about, a few strangers jigging about with him. He'd never been to a party like this before- usually it was a small group of people he knew trying desperately to get drunk off of Stella and just sitting on sofas talking or roughing it out. Here he was dancing on a sofa with a guy who his friends were all obsessed with and even had a few fanpages (not that he'd checked or anything) at a party with people four or five years older than him, slowly getting drunker and more high-spirited. He spun round and dived to retrieve Otabek and enlist him as his dance partner again, ripping him from the clutches of an almost-naked young woman with bright green hair.   
'What about your friend?' She called, and Yuri frowned. She picked up hand and pressed a pill into it, making him gasp and look quickly to Otabek. He was almost tempted to take it, but of course Otabek would never allow it. He saw the snatch coming before it happened, and the pill was almost automatically back in the hands of its distributor. Yuri was surprised to have seen drugs for real for the first time, but Otabek looked totally nonplussed by it. Looking around, it seemed that a lot of people were probably high now that he thought about it. The green-haired girl was making out with who Rafael had marked out as Kate in a corner and this reminded Yuri what he was supposed to do. Surely Otabek was expecting it. He wasn't entirely certain how to initiate it, but seeing another same-sex couple kissing steeled his nerves enough that he could pluck up the courage to lean against Otabek's chest and rest his hands on his hips, praying that this was what he was supposed to be doing. Otabek took the signal easily and hooked a finger under his chin to tilt his head back and kiss him softly. Yuri sighed and stretched up on his tiptoes so he could reach better.   
'Can we go somewhere?' He tipped his head forwards in line with Otabek's ear and whispered this in a low tone.   
'Really?' Otabek pulled away, frowning uncertainly. Yuri felt a moment of panic flash before him- what if this wasn't what he was expecting? No, his friends had told him so and he trusted them. Besides, why else would Otabek go anywhere near him if not to use his body? He looped an arm through Otabek's and together they stumbled up the stairs, full-on lightheaded by this point and struggling a bit. They tripped over two young men smoking what looked to be pot and a girl who was all but passed out on a friend, careening this way and that until they found a door. Otabek opened it to find that it was very much taken and Yuri had to avert his eyes from the scene before them.   
'So sorry,' Otabek chuckled, shutting the door and dashing off down the corridor. The end room was refreshingly empty, and once inside the music was dimmed a lot and everything seemed calmer. Yuri felt like he could think more objectively, but this meant that he now also felt fear. They sat on the bed and resumed kissing, Yuri sat on his lap and making sure to make all the right little sounds and movements. After a minute or so he peeled off Otabek's jacket and began to tug his shirt over his head. Otabek complied eagerly, replying with his own hands slipping under Yuri's sweater. His fingers slid along the ribs he found there, his heart hammering as he felt how protudent they were. He noticed the same with his hips as his hands fluttered down to tug at Yuri's waistband. Yuri moaned and arched his hips, trying to encourage his hands further.   
'Don't you think you're rushing things a bit?' Otabek suggested, a little nervous himself. He sat back and suddenly Yuri had tears cascading down his cheeks, visibly very het up.   
'Oh, if you want to we-'  
'I can't do it!' Yuri wailed, dropping his head onto Otabek's shoulder and continuing to sob helplessly. Otabek rubbed his back gently for a moment before taking control of the situation.   
'You don't want to what?' He enquired.   
'I don't want to have sex,' Yuri sniffled against him and if he hadn't sounded so downright miserable Otabek might have laughed.   
'Really? Is that why you're crying? You don't have to do anything at all!'  
'But you invited me to this party, d-'  
'Not with any expectations other than to cheer you up a bit. You're not under any obligation to do anything.'  
'So you're not annoyed?'  
'Annoyed? Of course not! Where did you even get that idea from?'  
'My friends said-'  
'They would. Boys your age have a notoriously high libido,' He tried to bring some humour to the situation but all it did was make Yuri cry harder.   
'I'm sorry,' He whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack. 'I thought I could, but I-'  
'Ssh, it's okay,' Otabek consoled him, stroking his hair.   
'No it's not, don't you see? I'm never going to be okay- I hate that I hate myself, but it's never going to stop!'   
'Of course you will. It gets better, you know.'  
'How?' Yuri snapped, rolling to his feet and clenching his fists so hard he could feel his nails biting into his palm. 'How can it get any better than this when I'm stuck in this endless cycle?'   
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like that,' Otabek held his arms out, and after a brief internal battle Yuri collapsed into them, the alcohol blurring his anxiety for once. He didn't know when or how it happened but they ended up snuggled together under the duvet, breathing each other's air and closing their eyes. Otabek tried to ignore how terrifyingly small Yuri felt in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

When Otabek woke up, he was immediately concerned to find he was alone. He sat up slowly, his head spinning and the room teetering on its axis as he pulled himself out of the bed. The party was still raging on and he didn't think Yuri would dare venture down into whatever was happening on the ground floor, so he cautiously pushed open every door until he found him throwing up in the bathroom.   
'Hey, are you okay?' He squatted down next to him and held his hair back.   
'Just the alcohol,' Yuri choked out, and Otabek nodded like he hadn't seen his fingers down his throat just moments ago. He groaned and sat back, pressing his hands against the cool tile and tipping his head back.   
'Wait there for a second,' Otabek patted him on the shoulder. 'I'll go get you some water.'  
He was scared to leave him when he looked so ghostly pale, but he slipped down the stairs and through the growing crowd into the kitchen, where Rafael was taking body shots off of someone or other.   
'Where did you run off to?' He grabbed Otabek by the arm and dragged him over to the hotspot of flowing alcohol.   
'He snuck off with that little blond twink,' Katie informed him, her words slurred so much it was hard to decipher which was which.   
'Oh,' Rafael smirked, nudging him. 'And decided to come back to the party?'  
'I can't,' Otabek opened up a cupboard and pulled down a glass to get some water. 'Sorry, I need to get back to him.'  
'Seriously? We've been planning this for months! Just because you wanted to get it on doesn't mean you can ruin my party after.'  
'Is it really ruined if I'm not there?'  
'Yes!' This was a resounding cheer from everybody within earshot.   
He really had been meaning to go back- this he stood by in what was to come. When it came down to it, perhaps he could have been a little more persuasive and stood up for himself better, but when people wanted him around and said that he'd ruin things if he left he couldn't exactly leave them. That would go against his personality entirely. Yuri would be fine, anyway. He was sick because of drinking a bit too much- it hadn't been that much anyway, so it wasn't as if he was in any danger. He'd probably just fall asleep and be fine in the morning. One more drink couldn't hurt, could it? 

It was at least two hours before Otabek returned to Yuri, and it was in a considerably worse state than before thanks to several more drinks- that 'just one more' had inevitably spiralled a little until he'd lost all track of time and responsibility. Being the central life of the party was his calling and to leave it would be painstakingly difficult when everybody was so happy- when he was making everybody so happy. Eventually Rafael had brought Yuri up again briefly and Otabek had had a flash of realisation and darted up the stairs with a glass of water to find Yuri sat where he had been before looking very sorry for himself and, Otabek was horrified to noticed, surrounded by tissues soaked with blood.   
'What do you-?' He began, but Yuri interrupted before he could make any stupid assumptions.   
'Nosebleed. Won't stop,' He was still holding a tissue to his face. The panic subsided and was replaced with a strong wash of guilt that made Otabek hang back for a moment before he handed him the glass of water.   
'Sorry,' He mumbled, sitting down next to him and putting an arm round his narrow shoulders. 'I didn't mean to be so long, I got distracted and...' He trailed off, unable to find an excuse that didn't sound like he'd basically forgotten to come back because he'd been having fun.   
'It's fine. I know I'm ruining it. You should go back, have fun.'  
'What? No, I'm staying right here with you.'  
'I'm fine,' Even as he said it, Yuri could feel himself getting lightheaded and his lips began to tingle. Each breath he took felt shakier than the last and opening his eyes came to be a huge struggle, so much so that they just fluttered uselessly as his eyes rolled back into his head.   
'I think I'm going to pass out,' Was all he said before he did just that, tilting forwards and his head lolling like he was a discarded rag doll. Otabek cursed and held him up so that he didn't hit the floor, waiting for him to come around. The last time he had after just a few seconds and he'd gotten the impression over the two weeks he'd known him that fainting was a frequent circumstance for him. So when Yuri hadn't opened his eyes after a pensive thirty seconds Otabek really began to panic.   
'Yuri?' He shook him by the shoulders gently, then firmer, but all that happened was Yuri's head rolled back and his eyelids cracked open a little to reveal a thin line of white. Otabek picked him up with the ease of somebody reinforced by adrenaline and carried him back to the bedroom they'd been in earlier. He rummaged for his phone but was unable to find it, so he grabbed the house phone from the bedside table and was about to dial 999 when a terrible thought hit him- he couldn't call an ambulance to the house when there was a party. All his friends were on drugs and Yuri was underage. His drunken and panicked mind scrabbled for an idea but found none. All he could do was bite his nails and stare at the phone. Looking back at Yuri, who was still unconscious and had gone a pale shade of grey-blue convinced him that he had to call an ambulance. He'd deal with the consequences later. He had to warn Rafael first of course, because they were all his friends downstairs and he couldn't let them get into trouble on his own behalf. He didn't even remember going down the stairs, but he walked a one-track line to where Rafael was lounging on a sofa with two girls sat on his lap.   
'Rafael,' He squeezed his shoulder, not realising how hard he was clutching him until he saw him wince. 'You have to get everyone out. Or hidden somewhere. I don't- I don't know.'  
'What? Are you trying to sabotage my party again?' Rafael chuckled, shaking him off nonchalantly. 'Can't you see these two lovely ladies and I are having a good time?'   
They giggled coyly and tossed their hair back flirtatiously.   
'Yuri's passed out cold and won't wake up. I need to call an ambulance and I don't want to get police involved.'   
'He's just asleep,' Rafael gestured vaguely with his hand, rolling his eyes. 'You're too paranoid.'  
'No, really. I can't get him to wake up.'  
'Carajo,' Rafael shoved the girls unceremoniously off and jumped up, rushing to turn the music off. 'Guys!' It was a hurdle to get them to even notice that the music was no longer playing. 'Hey! Everyone into the cellar, okay?'   
'What the fuck, Raf?' Katie yelled back, everybody looking indignant.   
'We're calling an ambulance, so all get in the cellar for a while and I'll tell you when you can come back up.'  
'Ambulance?'  
A ripple of concerned murmurs swelled up around the room, drowning out all other noise.   
'Just call the damn ambulance and stay with him, I'll sort everything out,' Rafael pushed a stock-still Otabek towards the stairs, sobered by this grave turn of events. He nodded and stumbled his way precariously back to Yuri, who was still unconscious as ever and looking an ashier shade of grey than before. His lips were turning slightly blue and Otabek had to rush to check he was still breathing. He called the ambulance and fumbled to explain that his friend had passed out, he didn't know what to do and he was scared out of his wits. He listed off the address and then it was just a heartstopping waiting game for the ambulance to arrive, the approximate time of arrival having been set for ten minutes' hence. He clasped Yuri's hand in his, willing him to open his eyes and blink those big green eyes of his slowly like he did when he was confused or worried, which was pretty much most of the time. Rafael appeared in the room at some point and sat next to him, reassuring him that everything was going to be fine- the ambulance was on its way, and he'd had to have his stomach pumped once and it had been fine in the end. The mention of stomach pumping turned Otabek's stomach and he almost had to run off to be sick.   
'I should never have brought him,' He rued the moment he'd decided it would be a good idea to invite him, and the one in which he'd given him alcohol. He hadn't thought of the ramifications on the malnourished body of a minuscule sixteen year old.   
'Maybe it wasn't the best idea,' Rafael agreed, compulsively checking Yuri's pulse again.   
'You shouldn't have given him so much to drink!'  
'It was his own choice.'  
'You practically forced it down his throat!'  
'If you hadn't taken him off to screw him I had planned to feed him, but I figured it was your choice.'  
'Don't say that,' Otabek growled, his eyes blazing. Rafael startled, never having seen his friend so angry in the time he'd known him. There was a hostile atmosphere that bristled sharply between them, but thankfully it was sliced through by a hammering at the door and sirens.   
'I'll get it,' Rafael jumped up, knowing Otabek wouldn't want to leave Yuri alone. He reappeared just moments later followed by paramedics looking very business-like and serene. They started saying stuff but Otabek couldn't hear a thing as they loaded Yuri onto a stretcher and hauled him down the ambulance, somebody putting foil round him and letting him ride in the back.   
'You'll be fine,' Rafael waved him off, kissing his cheek. 'He'll be fine.'  
Otabek nodded vacantly and climbed into the ambulance, his heart murmuring distinctly against his ribs. The paramedics started talking to him again and he caught brief snatches of conversation, words like 'alcohol poisoning' and 'comatose' drifting in and out of his mind. Time stood still as he watched Yuri's chest tie and fall gently, his breath barely there and his face a deathly white.   
'We need to get in contact with his parents,' A nurse touched his arm to get his attention once they were in the hospital and Yuri had been rushed down a corridor somewhere or other, leaving Otabek reeling in his wake and sitting in the hallway. It struck him as almost amusing that this was the place they had met, and possibly the last time he'd see Yuri again. He didn't know whether he'd die or not- his condition remained to be seen- but he doubted he'd ever be allowed anywhere near the boy again. He texted his own parents to let them know what had happened and his mother had instantly texted him to say they were on their way down to pick him up- on no account was he to get a taxi when he was drunk (he'd ended up in the complete wrong place the last time) and she was worried about him. He saw Yuri's mother go flying past after what felt like about ten minutes and he wondered how the hell she got there so fast, but his sense of time was skewed by the fact that it didn't seem to be moving. A nurse came out to talk to him a while later and was quick to reassure him that Yuri was going to be fine. What she really needed to talk to him about was the legal side of things.   
'Was it you who gave him the alcohol?' She asked and he nodded because while he hadn't physically handed him any, he had taken him to the party and allowed him to drink. 'Did you know he was a minor at the time?'  
'Yes,' He sighed, dropping his head into his hands in dejection. 'It was just beer.'   
'I need you to be honest with me about how much he had.'  
'Somebody- I gave him some punch. I don't know how much was in it. He had half a glass of it and a can of beer, I just don't understand why he passed out!'  
'Are you sure? To get to the point of stomach pumping I'm sure there would have been more. We need to know exactly what it was for the procedure.'  
'Stomach pumping?' He felt the blood drain from his face. 'Jesus... I just don't think he had that much. Would it make a difference if he hadn't eaten?'  
'Huge difference.'  
'Okay, umm, he's anorexic so I doubt he'll have eaten anything. I would have made him eat but I didn't see him and-'  
'Don't worry, we have his medical records. I'm sure that will have had an effect on him. Look, you seem responsible enough and I don't think there's any need to involve any law in this.'   
'God, thank you so much. How is he? Is he okay?'   
'He'll be okay. I think it's your mother you should be more concerned about, she's been considering pressing charges.'  
'For what?'  
'I think you should have a conversation with her. I have to go now and help the doctor, you sit right and I'll send you in to talk to her and see your friend once it's all over.'   
He braced himself for awkwardness, but thankfully before anything could happen his parents showed up looking worried for once. His mum fussed over him until he assured her he was nothing more than a little tipsy. They sat with him as he waited until he could go in. It was 3:27am before he was allowed to, and by that time several eternities had passed. Yuri was in the ICU, asleep but looking a little better. His mum was sat in the chair next to him, looking drained and exhausted. He couldn't blame her- being responsible for Yuri 24/7 had to be nerve-wracking. She stood up when she saw him, a tearful fury hazing her eyes, and he knew he was in for a well-deserved bollocking.   
'How could you let this happen?' She snapped, stomping her foot on the linoleum. 'He is sixteen! Sixteen, and you took him to a party for people five years older than him. Not to mention he's dangerously sick!'   
'I'm so sorry,' He bowed his head, clasping his hands together. 'I should have been looking out for him better.'   
'Damn right! He's just a kid. He's just a kid,' She repeated, dissolving into tears that made her shoulders shake. 'I'm sorry.' She delved into her handbag and pulled out a tissue, dabbing at her eyes like Otabek had only ever seen a grown woman do at his cousin's wedding. He couldn't help it; he was instantly by her side and putting an arm around her shoulders.   
'You must be under so much pressure,' He soothed, keeping his voice down. 'It's a terrible sickness and you're doing a great job.'  
'I just feel so useless,' She gestured to her son, lying in a hospital bed and hooked up to countless drips. Looking at him was painful in itself, but it was nice to see that his face was relaxed for the first time since he'd met him.   
'It's hard to know what to do,' He patted her shoulder understandingly, stepping away and giving her some space to recompose herself so that she didn't feel embarrassed.   
'That's why he's going to be hospitalised,' She sniffled. 'I can't deal with him on my own anymore.'   
'I think that's the right decision,' He nodded gravely. He couldn't see any other way that Yuri would get anywhere near recovery, however loved he was by anybody. He was too far gone to be anywhere but a hospital. 

Yuri felt like he was swimming through treacle trying to wake up and it was infuriating. He willed his eyes to open and when at last they did obey him after what felt like hours of trying, everything was blurred and he screwed them shut again. He blinked hard a few times before forcing himself to face up to the bright fluorescent lights glaring down at him. It didn't take long to realise where he was- he'd passed out at Rafael's party and no doubt he was in hospital now. He'd been stupid and let himself get carried away when Otabek had gone downstairs. A few people had joined him in the bathroom for a while and shared a bottle of Smirnoff Ice with him. And now there he was in hospital. His worst nightmare. With great strain he managed to turn his head sideways to avoid the light a little, and when he did he caught sight of the catheter stuck into his hand. As his neck turned, he felt an odd rubbing, tight sensation in his throat, like something was stuck in it. When he coughed and it was abrasive against the tender skin of his throats his hand flew up to his face. Upon feeling a tube taped to his nose he glanced to his side and saw the pole waiting for formula to be attached to it. He'd seen this far too often when he went to the eating disorder clinic and he couldn't allow it to happen; they'd put in a feeding tube and wanted to make him fat. He sat up quickly and wrenched at the tape, yanking the stiff NG tube from down his throats before anybody could intervene. He scrambled to his feet, pulling out the catheter too and wincing at the pain.   
'Yuri, calm down!' His mother came into focus, dark circles under her fear-stricken eyes. A nurse came running over, reaching out to gran Yuri and restrain him. Yuri stumbled backwards, his eyes registering only a blank terror.   
'No!' He screamed. 'Leave me alone, I won't do it! You can't do this to me!'  
The nurse was about to dash off and call for backup, his eyes flickering back and forth.   
'I'm going to need you to calm down, okay?' He walked a step closer and Yuri lost it, screaming at him to get away whilst all the while he trembled so violently he looked like he was in the middle of an earthquake.   
'I'd rather die! If you put that tube back in me I'll kill myself!' He yelled, his throat burning all the more for these harsh words he was hurling. He didn't look at his mother, knowing she would be inconsolable. The nurse was still floundering, but after a moment they ran out into the hallway as another nurse bustled over to join the kerfuffle.   
'Now, what's all this fuss, eh?' She had a much more brisk manner, clearly more experienced. 'Ah. You cannae pull your tube out, deary. Why don't you get back into your bed, eh, and I'll bring you a hot cuppa? Will that do you, bird?'   
He stared at her for a moment, bewildered and panting hard from his exertions.   
'I'm... I don't want a tube,' He tried to growl but his croaking voice wouldn't allow it and it came out as more of a whisper.   
'I'm sure you don't, but there's worse that can happen to a wee bairn such as yourself,' She started walking over to him and he backed away, the screams rising up in his throat again as she waddled closer. 'What's wrong, chook?'   
'Go away!' He wailed. At this moment, Otabek walked in with the nurse who had just run off. Yuri was beginning to verge on hysterics, his body shaking uncontrollably as he clenched his fist round the tube. He hated to think of what they could have been forcing into him whilst he was unconscious. He knew it was inevitable that they'd subdue him and force him into submission once more but he wanted to delay it as much as possible. He was probably burning calories with this breakdown too.   
'Hey, it's okay,' Otabek walked straight up to him and embraced his small frame, holding him tightly to stop the tremors and rocking him back and forth. 'You're okay. I've got you.'  
Yuri sobbed brokenly into his chest- huge, racking sobs that had him gasping deliriously for breath in between.   
'I don't want this,' He whimpered pathetically.   
'I know you don't. I promise I'll visit you whenever I can, okay?' Otabek kissed the top of his head and gently helped him back into the bed, wherein the nurse stepped forwards and began to reinsert the catheter and such. The feeding tube was going to be a wrestle but Yuri was far too worn out to stop her now. He consigned himself to his fate for a while, knowing that all too soon he'd just suffer another identical psychotic break. It was as inevitable as the tides, as was his quick relapse once they set him free again. They couldn't stop him losing weight, and he wouldn't let them make him gain any in the first place. He was determined to beat the system and lose yet more weight while he was hospitalised. He fully intended to use the fact that he was a boy and therefore an unlikely candidate to his advantage. Whatever the cost, he was going to become a skeleton.


	11. Chapter 11

'Ms. Plisetsky, could you come with me and we'll fill out the paperwork?' A tall woman dragged Yuri's mother away and he was left to sit alone in the recovery clinic he'd been banished to. The Eastwick Centre was miles from home- for some reason, it had been seen fit for him to be exiled to Scotland, of all places. The drive down had been horrific, with his mum silently crying for most of it and him desperately wishing he hadn't lost his phone at Rafael's party so that he could text Otabek. He had been sent away so quickly he hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye and already he missed him like hell. His mother hadn't even tried to make him eat, and this had been the most painful of all. He could see that she was at a loss for what to do and while all he wanted was to nestle into her protective arms, he just couldn't face it when he was so ashamed of what he'd done to her. She tried to make lighthearted conversation, asking him if he was tired, if the NG tube was giving him any grief, this and that and all that she could think of that avoided the topic of him slowly trying to kill himself, but her efforts were in vain. She got him a bottle of water and that was it, yet he was sorely persuaded to drink. He claimed that it was the uncomfortable tube, but he couldn't really feel it anymore- it was the way his skin was crawling thinking of the food that had already been poured down his throat. He didn't feel hungry anymore and it terrified him to the extent that even swallowing was a strain because it felt like even his own saliva was seething with calories, all seeking to cram his stomach with even more fat until all his (admittedly unsatisfactory) progress had been undone.   
Upon their arrival late the evening after he was taken to hospital, they were greeted by a jovial looking woman and taken through to wait outside the office of Mrs. Kadahki, who ran the whole show. Now he was sat outside the office on an uncomfortably hard chair, his legs pressed together and his hands gripping at each other. After they'd done all the paperwork and everything, Yuri was taken into a room slightly further up the corridor where a nurse was waiting for him. She was almost as short as him and smiled brightly, her teeth a brilliant white against her dark lips.   
'Hi, Yuri,' She gestured for him to sit down on the inspection bed, which he did obediently. 'I'm going to give you a quick checkover, is that okay?'   
He nodded uncertainly, hoping both that she would say he didn't need hospitalisation so he could go home and continue to starve himself and that she would tell him he was incredibly sick and needed to stay. His mind was distorted like that. First she took his height and weighed him, not letting him see the weight that was registered. He was half glad for it- he hated to see his weight enough as it was, but now, when he could physically feel the extra weight he was carrying, it would be torture to see the number. Next she drew some blood to enact a blood analysis and emptied the syringe into a vial.   
'Okay, I just need to take your heart rate,' She placed a pulse reader on his arm and he shifted uncomfortably as it squeezed tighter. 'Just a few more seconds.'  
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it, hating the feeling it gave him of strong nausea.   
'Right,' She took it off and at last he could breathe again. 'Your heart rate is slow and irregular. Not a good sign. Anyway, I'll let you go now and I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.'   
He was sent out into the corridor again, where he stood next to his mother in stony silence. He knew why he was there, and deep down he knew he needed to be; he was subconsciously aware of his predicament. Barely able to eat, losing all his hair, coughing up blood, completely helpless at school because he was so overruled by hunger pangs and his body was shutting down on him until he couldn't think. He'd lost his childhood to this obsession, something he could never get back. He regretted ever thinking it would be okay to lose 'just a few pounds'. These few pounds had grown to a few more, then ten, then twenty. At long last Mrs. Kadahki emerged from her office and asked if she could speak to Yuri alone for a bit. He trembled with nerves as he followed her into his office, tugging at his sleeves and trying not to give away his emotions. Her office was small but spacious, and he felt a little less claustrophobic once inside. He sat in the swivel chair opposite her desk and regretted it the instant he did so. He was so het up and anxious that he couldn't help himself from oscillating from side to side.   
'Yuri Plisetsky,' She stretched out the vowels in his first name, rolling them across her mouth.'I am Mrs. Kadahki and we're just going to have a little chinwag before I send you on your way. Nurse McReedie will be giving you a tour. I'm sure you're very nervous, so I can do all the talking for you. You'll be staying here for about two months as an estimate, depending on how willing you are to work with us and how you cope with treatment.'  
He stiffened at the word treatment, and at the sentence she passed. Two months seemed an awfully long time.   
'You'll receive two hours of counselling a day from Monday to Friday, then on weekends we have activities set up and visitation. No visits for the first week, I'm afraid, just while you're settling in.   
'Every day at 6am sharp you must be ready for your weigh-in, which will include weighing, breathing and heart rate and all such requirements to take an accurate measure of your improvement. This will all be done by the nurses. After that, breakfast is at 7:30am and you'll be under very close supervision. Of course, for you it's tube feeding. You'll probably keep the tube for a few days until you show physical improvements. You'll have round-the-clock supervision for the first few days, and different nurses will be on rotation- they're all lovely, I assure you. At 8:30am is creative therapy, which is it compulsory but strongly advised. If you don't join in, you must stay in the common room where you can watch films, read books and talk to the other patients. Morning snack is at 11am and you'll be taking supplements with them until you've achieved a certain weight. Then you have group therapy until lunch, after which you have one-on-one therapy and activities. Dinner is 6pm and you will also have an evening snack at 8pm, then you must be in bed by 10pm. You're sharing a room with two other patients, who you'll meet in just a moment. Does this all sound in order?'  
He just nodded, completely overwhelmed and absolutely paralytic with fear. He'd forgotten there would be other people- they'd all see right through him, how much of a faker he was. Added to that, they'd all be much thinner than he was and he'd feel both humiliated and encouraged to lose more weight.   
'Any questions?' She asked him as he stood up, but he shook his head. He wanted to escape as soon as possible. 'Wonderful. Say goodbye to your mum and I'll pass you over to Nurse Scott.'  
She bundled him out the door and he hugged his mum awkwardly, wishing she would stop crying. She was still sniffling when he said goodbye and watched her walk off, a strong sense of guilt ramming him full-force in the stomach. He needed to try. If not for himself, then for her. This was just a fleeting moment of positivity, but it felt important somehow. He knew within minutes he'd be back to his usual mindset, but it was nice to feel like he had something to recover for, even if he had no plans to genuinely recover. He'd just trick them into thinking he was okay so he could go home. Another smiling nurse (were they all trained to smile like that? Didn't their jaws ache?) put a hand on his back and steered him down into a corridor that looked exactly the same, explaining that this was where the rooms were. Two girls were sat on the floor outside a room, one of them crying and the other comforting them. They stared at him as he walked past and he ducked his head in embarrassment, wishing they would ignore him. They weren't as skeletal as he'd thought the other inpatients might be, but nevertheless they looked dire with huge black bags under their eyes and pale skin. They kind of looked like vampires, and death definitely did not become them.   
'This is your room,' The nurse opened a door and led him inside the room. 'You're sharing with Katie and Shannon.'  
The walls were a generic cream and everything in the room was just as dull and lifeless. It would have been insufferable had it not been for the bright posters and paintings that adorned the wall, writing scrawled over many of them. A lot of them were motivational quotes that made him cringe, but there were messages written underneath that almost brought a smile to play at his lips. At that moment, a tall wait of a girl with hair down to her waist and skin so pale she practically blended into the white sheets came dancing in with a short, elvish girl in a floral headscarf in her wake. They both had flushed cheeks and wide grins on their cheerful faces.   
'Where's our new- oh!' She caught sight of Yuri and startled. 'Is this the new roommate?'   
'This is Yuri,' The nurse patted him on the shoulder. 'Yes, your new roommate. Yuri, this is Katie and Shannon.'  
She pointed to the two girls in question, failing to specify which was which. They both waved eagerly and, while he waved back shyly, he resisted the urge to retreat into a cupboard and hide for the remainder of his stay. He highly doubted there would be any other boys, and he had seen the surprise registered on their faces when they saw him.   
Before he could settle in, the nurse had to go through the entirety of his bag, combing through for any contraband he may have been attempting to smuggle in, like cigarettes, laxatives or food. It beat him as to why they'd have an issue with him smuggling food in if they were trying to get him to eat it in the first place. Content, she aided him in his unpacking- his mum had overpacked and he'd gone through it, taking most of it out. All his clothes were the same anyway- a load of oversized sweaters and black jeans. He was then taken on a whistle-stop tour of the building.   
She began with the most important room; the dining room. It was small so that they could easily keep an eye on all the patients with their limited staff. There were three tables, all with a list on them of who sat where, evaluated by risk. He wasn't on a list yet because he was going down to the medical bay at dinner-time to be tube fed, but a dietician at the hospital had ensured he was still able to swallow food (using water and the smallest amount of food possible) so he was able to participate in snacks. The room linked through to a conservatory filled with bright flowers and quaint little window seats. It was freezing in there and he made a mental note to spend some time in there as he'd once read that being cold and shivering burned calories.   
Next up on the itinerary was the common room, which was enormous compared to the rest of the site. Six girls were all sat in a huddle together on one of the luxurious velvet couches watching a movie on the flatscreen TV. So that was why the place was so expensive... Nurse Scott told them to say hi to the new patient, and they all have monosyllabic greetings and the mandatory glance to feign interest. Once they actually saw him this blossomed into real interest and one of them paused the movie. Right, his gender gave him added zest because boys didn't get mentally ill. Certainly not enough to get hospitalised. They introduced themselves and while their names faded into nothing relatively quickly, he was pretty sure he would remember their piercing, morbidly curious stares for as long as he lived.   
'Want to watch with us?' One of them piped up, and he looked helplessly at Nurse Scott.   
'Tour's not over,' She told them for him, and he was grateful that he didn't have to talk. 'Maybe after.'  
They walked through into the next corridor and the drab cream walls were interspersed with doors that were obnoxiously labelled with words such as 'wet play' and then general names like 'Therapy 1' and 'Therapy 2'. Distracted by reading these he managed to walk right into somebody, and by bizarre coincidence it was one of the girls from his room. She smiled and apologised, and this incurred a minor revelation within him. She looked happy. Happy to be there, if happiness was the word for it. He knew he was a terrible judge of weight but she looked healthy to him. He didn't know why, but he felt a sense of dread set inside. He should want that- he should want his own happiness, but he detested the idea with vigour. He would continue tumbling down his anorexic shortcut to passive suicide. If they made him gain weight there, he'd never want to leave because he couldn't stand for anybody to see him like that. Otabek would see him. What if he posted another picture of him and everyone said he looked fat? They had no reservations saying he looked too skinny, so he doubted they'd have any about calling him fat. It wasn't just that though- he couldn't imagine his life without an eating disorder. It had become his everything; it was his comfort blanket. It gave him something to fixate and focus on when he couldn't remember who he was anymore. He was Yuri Plisetsky, the boy turning himself into a skeleton. That was who he was. It had become such a part of him that he was afraid to let it go lest he should find that he no longer recognised what was underneath. She finished the tour within a minute or so, pointing out the garden when she brought him back to the common room and explaining that it was far too cold to go outside in 'his state'. He tried not to take offence but it kind of irked him. She set him free and he was beckoned over to sit with the girls who had invited him to watch a film with them earlier. He sat precariously on the armchair beside them, their sofa already crammed to bursting. The film was in Spanish and his eyes were too tired to scan the subtitles, so he just stared blankly at the faces. He craved interaction, but not with the girls surrounding him. He was tragically homesick already and he was even missing his stupid schoolfriends, even if they did get a little draining every now and then. Especially when they were hounding him about stupid parties that he didn't especially want to go to in the first place. His worries about Otabek and typical boy drama concerning sex seemed trivial now, in light of being sent to a clinic. Thinking about Otabek made his throat swell up and his eyes sting a little. He didn't think he could miss somebody he barely knew this much. He'd made the tiniest mark on Otabek's life, barely even a dent, but Yuri's life had changed tumultuously. He wouldn't say he was any better than he had been before they'd met, but he had something to make him smile. And blush, apparently- his cheeks were burning up with heat and he had to press his cold hands against them to quell the fire. He wanted to talk to Otabek, but not only had he lost his phone- they weren't allowed them at the clinic. He could understand why, as the internet was a lethal place (he'd gotten the tiniest dose of it just from comments on Otabek's picture of him that one time) and unsafe for anybody who needed hospitalisation for an eating disorder. Once it had finished and the credits were rolling, the girls turned their attentions to him.   
'How long are you here for?'   
'Two months,' He grumbled, unable to help a miserable expression creeping across his face.   
'You say that like it's a prison sentence.'  
'May as well be,' He shrugged.   
'It actually passes really quick. You'll make friends and then you won't want to leave.'  
'I can't wait to get the hell out of here,' He scoffed. He couldn't see that ever being a reality for him. 'Because I want to see my friends from home.'  
'I have a phone you can borrow,' A redhead whispered conspiratorially, glancing furtively at the two nurses in the room. He leaned forwards, his interest piqued. 'I mean, only for five minutes or so. It's hard to charge it.'  
'Really? Wait, I don't know their numbers off by heart,' He bit his lip. There was only one person he wanted to call, and unfortunately he couldn't private message Otabek as his messages were too full already and he'd never see them. Maybe that could be a good thing? He could say whatever he wanted and never be discovered... But he couldn't miss a chance to hear his voice. He wanted to apologise for ruining his night and being so needy all the time. He needed to hear him say something encouraging to get him through the next two months or he was worried he might not make it through the next half hour.   
'Message them on something and ask for their numbers,' She said this like it was obvious. 'If you come to my room- second on the right- in the middle of the night, you can use it. I'm Cassie, by the way.'   
'Thanks so much,' He whispered back, racking his brains for how he could get Otabek's attention. Hopefully he'd have some other social media he could contact him on. Facebook, maybe? Then again, who even used Facebook these days? He'd have to try anyway. It was all he had to hold on to. 

Yuri had no idea how the hell he was supposed to sneak anywhere in the middle of the night when he was still being tube fed at 11pm. It had taken them ages to sort everything out and they'd insisted on explaining everything to him, meaning from the moment after a phone had been offered to him in secret he hadn't been left unsupervised thanks to his scrupulous new routine. At evening snack, he hadn't talked to anybody because he'd been feeling sick with nerves. Everybody else had eaten theirs with minimal fuss, but he'd just sat and stared at his. He couldn't bear the thought of going down easy. They'd all look at him and wonder why he was there if he could eat so easily. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to eat, but the pressure not to was too great. The nurses had been unflappable, telling him he'd just have extra calories for his tube feeding. He'd managed to drink half of his Fortisip because liquid calories somehow seemed less threatening, and now he was slowly having his stomach filled against his own will. He lay and watched the formula drain through the tube millimetre by millimetre, each measurement making him want to cry. He was so bloated already and he longed to rip the tube out and hide somewhere they could never find him, but he didn't exactly have much choice in the matter. A rotund nurse had been guarding him for the whole time, and there was still half an inch of formula left. He didn't think he had the guts to go to a girl he didn't really know's room in the middle of the night and wake her up to borrow her phone. He had to put a call through to Otabek though, so when the nurse unhooked the formula from his tube and fastened the cap over the end of it he pretended to fall asleep so that she left quickly. He waited until he heard her footsteps fade away and took this chance to fold back the duvet as quietly as he could and slip out of bed. With one last brief look back at Katie and Shannon, both sound asleep, he crept out the door and tiptoed down the hall. He felt cold paranoia roll down his spine and cause the hairs on the back of his neck to bristle and stand to attention. Every creak of the old building and complaining of the pipes made him jump, and he hadn't even faced the biggest hurdle yet. He had to pluck up the courage to enter Cassie's room and wake her up first, and for this he needed a lot of bravery. With all the stoicism he could muster he forced himself to walk down the corridor until he reached what he assumed to be the correct door. He breathed a huge sigh of relief to see that she had a bedside lamp on and her and her two roommates were deep in discussion. She looked up and instantly beckoned him closer, handing him a cracked phone covered in stickers.   
'Here. Do what you want with it, just give it back in five minutes.'  
He nodded and retreated to a corner of the room, his first port of call being to go to Facebook and search up Otabek. Since his name was pretty unique, it didn't take long to find him, or to see that he hadn't been active in two years. That was a positive. It did present some hilarious pictures of him as a 17 year old with some questionable poses and a lot of stuff he probably shouldn't have been doing at that age, but Yuri didn't have the time to stalk him. He messaged him anyway, and on Instagram too, hoping it would miraculously get through somehow. He looked at his profile to see when he last posted and was alarmed to see that he featured in his latest post. It was a picture of them together at Rafael's party, probably one of the ones some guy with a camera had been taking all night. They were stood on a sofa and grinning at each other whilst dancing riotously- frankly, it struck him as adorable. He didn't even care too much that he looked fat in it; it was a cute photo and everybody's attention would be on Otabek, anyway. He belonged in the pages of some grungy fashion magazine with his sultry looks and the brooding expression he cast every now and then when he was thinking. The caption underneath read,  
'Missing you already, I hope you're breaking the rules and reading this.'  
Very enigmatic and certainly nothing anybody would understand or be able to make any assumptions from, but enough to make him smile. As he read it, the phone vibrated and died.   
'Shit,' He gasped, and Cassie looked over at him.   
'Sorry, like I said. I guess you didn't get a reply? If you do, I'll tell you and you can use it again until you get to call them.'  
'Really?'  
'Sure. I remember how much it sucked when I first came here. Hell, I still miss my friends from home. For now just try to forget about anything outside of these walls, because what's within them is all you need to worry about.'


	12. Chapter 12

Yuri was rudely awoken at 6am by a nurse throwing open the door and calling out that it was weigh-in time. He groaned and pulled himself out of bed, awaiting a dizzy sensation that never came. He could tell before he'd even dragged himself from his bed that it was going to be an exhausting day. He didn't know what he was supposed to do so he followed everyone else's lead, following them outside into the hallway and downstairs to sit in the corridor where the medical room was. Already a girl was coming out, bleary-eyed and yawning. The line of people slowly dwindled and soon it was Yuri's turn to go in. He squinted his eyes at the bright light and rubbed them to remove the sleep.   
'Hi Yuri, how are you feeling this morning?' It was Nurse Scott, her expression cheerful enough that it was clearly fake at 6:43am.   
'Fine,' He mumbled, his eyes drooping shut as she took his weight again and all the other things she needed to measure.   
'No nausea?'  
'Umm, a little bit but that's normal.'  
'Coughing?'  
'No more than usual.'  
'You cough a lot?'  
'Not really, I-'  
'You have to tell me the truth, sweetheart.'  
'Well, the hospital dealt with it. The lining of my throat-'  
'Worn away? Yep. Okay, what about stomach ache?'  
'No.'   
'Then it looks like we're about done here. You can go.'  
'Uhh, thanks,' He walked back into the corridor, where he was accosted by Cassie. He didn't recognise her at first- she blurred into the rest of the similar faces in his sleepless mind.   
'Your friend messaged you back,' She patted him on the shoulder. 'I didn't read it, but he must have sent you his number. We can skive group therapy and go into the garden later so you can call him.'   
'Oh, thanks,' He dropped his gaze and bit his lip, an excited fluttery feeling starting up in his stomach. 'Yeah, that sounds cool.'   
'Sweet. You coming to breakfast?'  
'I have this little guy,' He gestured to the tube poking out of his nose. 'No breakfast for me.'  
'But you'll sit with us?'  
'Oh, sure,' He'd forgotten what it was like to be in a group unit of people. He'd been at school just days ago and already he was missing that dynamic.   
Surprisingly, nobody seemed hugely bothered over breakfast. He couldn't imagine a future in which he was as nonplussed eating something so basic as a bowl of cereal as some of the girls at the table were. They were more concentrated on talking about the telenovela they'd been watching together the day before than the food they were eating. Was it really possible? To be so okay with it even when they had- or did have- an eating disorder? The thoughts overwhelmed him so much at times it consumed his every waking moment and their prominence was hard to fathom at times, so the idea of them not being there was impossible. They had probably wanted recovery. They were girls, anyway. There were more procedures in place to help them right from the start. He'd seen so many posters up round his school about girls loving their bodies- and yeah, that was super important because they were taught to hate it with vehemence by almost everything that surrounded them- but never one for boys.   
'Ellie, roll your sleeves down,' A nurse called across the room and the girl in question pulled a face, rolling her sleeves down. As he looked around he noticed everybody else had done the same.   
'What's with the sleeves?' He frowned, leaning over to Cassie.   
'We're very good at sneaking food out- a lot of girls slip food down their sleeves.'  
'That's... Worrying.'  
'Yeah, well. Makes you do stupid things, doesn't it?'  
'Yeah,' He sighed. 'It really does.' 

 

Otabek was going insane. He knew that he wasn't the only person who had noticed- his parents, who were distant at best most of the time, had been worrying over him nonstop. His mother, for one, had been pressuring him to go out and see his friends, even going so far as to call Rafael to suggest he come over. He was waiting for him now, his head leaning against his bedroom window and his eyes half closed. He just didn't want to talk to anybody for a few days; he was too busy thinking about Yuri. He'd been thinking about what he should have done, everything he could have done, to help him. He'd failed. How the hell had he failed so badly? To make matters worse, he'd practically thrown him into the hospital himself. He should never have taken him to that stupid party or let him drink at all. He should have made him eat and not ignored the times when he got away with it just because he was too afraid to say anything in case Yuri got upset. This was the first time he'd failed to help somebody and it was getting him down like mad. The thing that had worried him most was the silence- he'd heard nothing from either Yuri or his mother, who he'd tracked down on Facebook and messaged to ask how he was doing. No reply, but then he wasn't sure what he'd expected. He had taken her sixteen year old son to a crazy party, after all, and he had let him get out of hand enough to need his stomach pumping. In just a few days his life had plunged into a dark mess of confusion and isolation. Usually when he was upset he delved into the lives of other people and busied himself with making others happy, but now all he wanted to do was hide away in his room. At least Yuri had messaged him from some random girl's Facebook to ask for his number. He'd replied as soon as he'd seen it and hadn't put his phone away since, permanently waiting for him to call.   
He was dreading Rafael's visit, but he could understand that his friends would be getting worried about him since he'd been brushing them off a lot lately. Also, they'd left things a little awkwardly the last time they'd seen each other. When Rafael did arrive, he was oddly soft-spoken and gentle compared to his typical outgoing and unreserved nature.   
'Hey buddy,' He squeezed Otabek's shoulder gently to let him know he'd arrived, but Otabek still jumped.   
'Oh, hi,' He stood up. Why couldn't he just dive straight into conversation like they always did?   
'No offence, but you look a little shit.'   
'Well, it's been a rough few.'  
'I get it. How is Yuri, by the way?'  
'Hospital.'  
'Still? Was it that bad?'  
'No, like hospitalisation. He's gone to a recovery clinic for- I don't know how long. I don't know anything. He's going to try to call me, but they're not allowed phones.'   
'Crap! Are you okay?' Rafael stared into his eyes searchingly, concerned etched into his brow.   
'What do you think?' Otabek rubbed the back of his neck. 'I'm out of my mind with worry.'  
'But he'll be alright, yeah?'  
'I don't know. It's so frustrating to not know how he is, or even where he is!'  
'I'm sure he-'  
Otabek suddenly felt his phone begin to vibrate. The number was withheld but he had a pretty good idea of who it might be. He held his hand up to Rafael to indicate that he needed a moment of privacy, and Rafael graciously left him in peace.   
'Hello?' He answered the phone, his fingers tightening around it as he subconsciously prayed to hear one specific voice.   
'Hey,' Yuri breathed, and Otabek could hear the smile in his voice. Hearing him made his heart do stupid tricks in his chest and he was genuinely worried that he might snap his phone in half with the way he was gripping it.   
'Yuri?'  
'Yeah. It's good to hear your voice.'  
'It's good to hear yours too,' Otabek bit his lip to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. There was a moment of silence, but not an uncomfortable one- more like they were taking a moment to recompose themselves.   
'How are things holding up in Fort Knox?' Otabek teased.   
'It's awful. I mean, it's not awful. The people are nice, the staff are fine, the place is pretty. I just hate what I'm here for.'  
'Understandable. You do realise that you need to be there though, don't you?'  
'I don't know... Maybe.'  
'Yuri, you need to get better and this is going to help you.'   
'Sure. I have a feeding tube, actually. I look like something out of Doctor Who.'  
'Wait, do they put your food in a blender and pour it down?'   
'Uhh, not exactly. There's these little cans of formula they give me.'  
'That sounds gross.'  
'I can't taste it, but it's horrible all the same. I actually think it's worse that I can't taste it because I don't even feel like I've eaten but I'm full.'   
'Is it helping?'  
'It's been one day. We'll see.'  
'How long are you there for?'  
'Two months. I think I'm going to go insane.'  
Otabek whistled; two months was a long time for a sixteen year old. Definitely enough time to grow apart and forget each other, but he was determined not to let that happen.   
'Can I come visit you?'  
'Really? You'd really want to?'  
'Of course I would, stupid! Where is it?'  
'It's the Eastwick Clinic in Scotland. I think you can visit next weekend- it's only weekends and I can't have visitors in the first week.'  
'I'll be there. I promise.'  
'Really?'  
'Yes. Just try to get through the next two weeks, okay?'

After Yuri had called Otabek he felt miles better. He managed to stay same for the rest of the day, even during the tube feeding. The next morning, however, things proved a little too much when he visited the nurse for his morning weigh-in. She went through the checks he'd come to expect, asked the same questions, checked his tube. After everything was done and she was sure he was doing okay with the tube she pulled out a little pot. He could see from where he was sat that it was medication.   
'Right, the hospital sent these forward,' She opened the pot up and tipped out a pill.   
'What are they?' He chewed his lip, staring at the pill with trepidation.   
'Antidepressants,' She handed it to him with a little paper cup of water. 'Very strong ones.'  
'What?' He widened his eyes, not making a move to take it. 'I'm not depressed, though.'   
'Prescribed by a doctor.'  
'I'm not-'  
'Take it, Yuri,' She instructed, staring him down until he hesitantly placed it in his mouth and swallowed it down with a gulp of water, wincing as it caught in his throat for a second. 'You may feel some tiredness, but that's normal. If you start to feel more depressed, you need to tell somebody straight away. Other things that could happen are...' She rattled on about the possible side effects and it sent his head reeling. He couldn't understand why he'd been prescribed these- he wasn't depressed. He knew he wasn't depressed. He didn't get sad, he just hated his body. It was different. The only way to make him happy was to let him starve himself, not shut him up by lodging pills in his throat and injecting food straight into his stomach. Within half an hour he began to feel tired, and this was the point where he knew he had to rage against everything this stupid clinic was attempting to do for him. They were getting it all wrong! As he watched everybody eat breakfast he realised they weren't happy to do it, they were just well-trained and saw no other choice. It had been drummed into them time and time again that if they didn't eat it they'd be tubed and they were terrified of tubing. He couldn't allow himself to become brainless like that; he had to deny all treatment and use every trick he could think of and scrounge from the other girls to avoid gaining any weight. Not even maintaining was an option. This clinic was just a bump in his road to his goal weight, one storm that he could surely weather after all the other obstacles he'd faced. He couldn't let it stop him from getting where he wanted- needed- to get to. He swilled the water round in his cup before he drank it, deciding that once his tube was out water would be the only thing hitting his stomach. He knew Otabek would be disappointed- he'd sounded worried earlier. He felt hugely guilty for causing him that stress, but he wouldn't be pressured into ruining all his progress that he'd worked so hard for. He'd risked so much for it that giving up on his dreams would be ridiculous at this point. It was giving him something to work towards. It'd hurt his mother as well... He knew what he was doing to himself was destroying her. He wouldn't be getting any 'good son' awards. All he'd done in life was let her down. Maybe if he died she'd be relieved of the immense strain that he had placed upon her. When had he become so messed up that he wouldn't care if he died if he could just be thin? He didn't even know when it had all begun. All the stories he'd heard about it had featured points where it had kicked off and the vicious thoughts had initially kicked in. He couldn't quite recall when they had started, but they were so present in his life now that he couldn't remember clearly a time when they hadn't been there. It was insane to think that he had ever been casual- cheerful even- about eating and gaining weight. He'd been able to sit down with his friends and not have to hide a panic attack because of something so simple as an apple. His birthdays hadn't been ruined because he'd started crying when his mum had tried to give him some of his birthday cake that she'd spent so many hours eating. He'd been able to go out with friends and not be clouded over by thoughts of how he could avoid eating to the point that he didn't hear a word they said. He'd woken up in the morning feeling full from a huge dinner but still able to cram in more food for breakfast. He knew now that if he ever ate like that again his metabolism had changed so much that he'd become the size of a house within just days. He didn't know how accurate his ideas about weight gain and how much he'd gain from eating however many calories were, but this was how he saw it. Food was bad. That was all there was to it. He'd convinced himself that it was the worst thing and threatened his very existence, and it wasn't as if that was ever going to change. He may as well just keep going until he died. That was the only thing that could put a stop to the heartache. 

Otabek had been hoping and praying that by some miraculous circumstance, Yuri would be looking better when he saw him two weeks later at visitation. He was furious to see that he looked worse than before; he looked like an animate skeleton as he took a seat across from him in the dining room that had temporarily become the visitation room. No nasogastric tube, he noted. Why had they taken it out? He clearly wasn't getting enough nutrients. Hadn't they noticed the state of him? All these thoughts and more were parading through his mind when he stood up to pull Yuri into the tightest hug he could bear without snapping him.   
'God, I've missed you,' He murmured as he let him go. 'Do we have to stay in here?'  
'Yeah,' Yuri was barely audible, and Otabek felt cold dread set in his stomach as they sat down.   
'How's treatment going?'  
'Really good,' There was something reserved about his tone and his eyes were lifeless, as if the words he was saying were just a front. It was obvious enough that they were anyway; his drastically worse condition proved this. How could he be losing weight in a recovery clinic?   
'I'm glad,' He didn't mention it just yet, because he'd rather talk about it when they were alone- he didn't know when this would next be, though. 'Has your mum visited yet?'  
'Tomorrow.'  
Otabek was taken aback by his lethargic attitude. This was nothing like the Yuri he knew- where was the nervous energy, the brightly shining eyes? He seemed to be sleepwalking or something.   
'Are you tired?'  
'Not really.'  
'What time do you wake up?'  
'Six.'  
Otabek sighed and raised his eyes to the heavens. What was going on?   
'Is something up?' He leaned forwards and laced his fingers through Yuri's.   
'No,' Yuri slowly pulled his hand away, his eyes drifting to the floor.   
'You seem... Different.'  
'New meds. They make me tired.'   
'I can tell,' Otabek's heart ached to see him looking like this. It seemed as if the place may have broken his spirits, but if they had then surely he'd be looking better than when he'd been admitted. He was actually angry that they weren't taking care of him and wanted nothing more than to storm up to one of the nurses on duty and demand to know why Yuri wasn't happy yet. Obviously it was overambitious to expect him to be fully cured already, but he could always dream. He was tempted to sneak him out and drag him home so that he could do something- anything- that might help more than this place. It felt like they were fighting a losing battle with his anorexia and they'd just lost half a mile of whatever progress he'd deluded himself into thinking they'd made. Yuri was just beginning to wall himself off and block everybody out, which was so dangerous with the way he was now. Getting through to him when he came out was going to be nigh impossible.   
'Are you sure everything's going okay?' Otabek gripped at his hand again, refusing to let go this time.   
'Yes,' Yuri refused to meet his eyes. 'Great.'   
'Good. Okay,' He couldn't think of anything else to say. 'I- I should go.'  
'Okay.'   
'Bye, then. I'll try and visit again, okay?'  
Yuri made a short noise that sounded mildly affirmative and Otabek patted him on the shoulder before walking away, holding his breath so he didn't cry when he felt how terrifyingly protrudent the bone was. He couldn't help but feel like Yuri didn't have much time left.


	13. Chapter 13

'I'm coming home.'  
Yuri had typed and retyped this message at least a thousand times, staring at Otabek's name on the new phone his mother had bought him while he'd been away. The minute she'd seen him the day before at visitation she'd announced she was going to bring him home. He hadn't realised he'd lost that much weight. He'd known he was losing it, of course, but he didn't think it was as visible as everyone made it out to be. She'd had a massive argument with Ms. Kadahki which had ended in her getting a full refund (she was a formidable woman when it came to financial disputes) and Yuri's withdrawal from the clinic. She'd stayed in a hotel overnight while he collected all his things together and they filled out a full report of what treatment he'd received in the two weeks he'd been there. He was sat in his room now, trying to compose a text to Otabek that explained his awful behaviour when he'd visited. He couldn't explain why it had happened- he'd been having a terrible day, the meds had been messing with him (he'd pleaded with his mum for hours to take him off them and she had at last relented) and it had rendered him socially useless. He had barely been able to talk to anybody because his mind lagged so much on them. It meant it was easier when he was tricking people into thinking he was okay, because they didn't particularly care when he disappeared for hours on end. He figured it had something to do with him being a boy; they just didn't really know how to deal with him. Boys were strong. They didn't have emotions and they certainly didn't have anorexia. He'd found it almost laughably easy to sneak off to throw up after meals or hide at the end of the garden behind the trees as he overexercised himself into a stupor. This was actually the main reason that he was always so tired- he pushed his decaying body entirely beyond its limits, and all for a twisted mind game he played with himself. The nurse had become a little frustrated at his weigh-ins and asked him if he was eating everything he was given, but she couldn't perceive that it was anything else since nobody knew he was doing anything untoward in private. He'd learnt to be practically silent whilst purging, which had helped when Shannon and Katie were around. They never told on him anyway. He supposed they didn't care much, or maybe they understood all too well the pain he was going through. Occasionally he'd emerged from the bathroom, red-eyed and sore-throated, to find a cold glass of water at his door. He liked to think it was Katie and Shannon, but when he asked them about it they denied any knowledge. As a result of his wily ways he'd lost a lot of weight. When he'd weighed himself with his backup scale- his mum had thrown away the one he usually used- he'd expected his weight to be somewhere just above where he'd left off before hospitalisation due to the tube feeding he'd been subjected to at first. To his immense astonishment (and pride), he'd lost 10lbs since he'd gone to the clinic. Clearly that wake up call had been what he'd needed. He actually kind of regretted allowing his mum to bring him home after seeing the results of his stay there.   
He looked down at his phone again, racking his brains for something to say that would make up for his shittiness. He couldn't think of a thing that wouldn't come across as either pathetic or mean over text, so he decided that all that was left was to go see Otabek himself. Usually he'd be terrified of doing something so forward, but he was done with hiding all the time. It was what had gotten him into this stupid situation anyway. He didn't actually know where he lived, which posed a bit of a problem. He snapchatted Rafael to ask him, and the reply was almost instant. Not surprising as Rafael hadn't put his phone down at the party for more than half a minute. The address wasn't too far, so he told his mum he was going out and pulled a coat down from his wardrobe.   
'Where are you going?' She called back, stepping out into the hallway to face him.   
'To see a friend,' He shrugged, delving his hands deep into his pockets.   
'Who?'  
'Otabek.'  
'Hmm,' She pursed her lips and clicked her tongue at him. 'I don't think I like you hanging out with him.'  
'Relax, he's a really nice guy.'  
'I know. He was very kind to me at the hospital, I just think he's a little too old for you to be friends with.'  
Friends... What would she say if she knew how close they'd been at times? Yuri knew realistically that that part of their relationship was probably over by now, but the point still stood that they'd almost had sex, or it had at least been implied that they might have done.   
'I just want to talk to him,' He grumbled, scuffing his feet against the floor.   
'I want you back in two hours. It's late.'  
He grunted and waved goodbye, stepping out into the bracing chill of the outside air and beginning to walk. His legs were shaking a little as he walked, already so strained and undernourished that he was out of breath before he even got halfway. He arrived at the door and could barely lift his arm up to ring the doorbell. A tall woman whose sharp features he vaguely recognised as Otabek's mother answered the door.   
'Umm, is Otabek in?' He squeaked, wringing his hands together in anxiety.   
'Sure. Up the stairs, second door on the left,' She shrugged, and he assumed she was used to getting visitors just dropping in. Otabek seemed like the kind of person always getting people swinging by to see him. He followed her instructions and hesitated outside the door for a few moments to try to give himself some time to prepare what he wanted to say. He gently pressed it open, stepping in and playing with the hem of his shirt to distract his fidgety hands. Otabek was sat on the floor sorting through a CD collection, which surprised Yuri as he was pretty sure he hadn't seen a CD player in five years. He went and sat down next to him, unable to bear it if he was towering over him for once. Otabek looked up and instantly his expression became one of confusion and shock.   
'Yuri?' His voice came out higher than intended. 'What are you doing here?'  
'Clinic didn't exactly work out,' He mumbled, suddenly unable to speak properly. 'So my mum brought me home. Look, I'm sorry about... Well, everything really. I suck.'   
'Don't say that!'  
'No, it's true. I got put on these meds that messed with my brain, but I'm off them now. I feel better now.'  
'Can you admit that you're not okay, then?'  
Yuri stared at him, real fear visible in his eyes. He didn't want to admit anything because if he did he knew people would start trying to fix him again. He didn't want to be fixed.   
'I don't know if I am,' This was as close as Yuri could get to a confession. 'But I'm trying to be.'   
Just not in the way he should be.   
Otabek silently reached for his hand, and this time Yuri didn't pull away. In fact, he met him halfway and budged up closer to him, nestling into his side and sighing contentedly.   
'So what are you doing?' He gestured to the CDs.   
'Alphabetising them.'  
'Can I help?'  
'Sure. It's by artist, so group together all the ones by the same artists and then alphabetise those by album titles.'   
'Okay,' Yuri's eyebrows knitted together and he began to sort through a small pile, stacking them up in the correct order. It was nice to have something methodical to take his mind off of the hell he was living outside of this room. It helped him to ignore the feeling of his stomach caving in on itself, though the sound of it growling didn't escape Otabek's ears.   
'Okay, you need food. Wait here and I'll get you something.'  
Yuri watched him leave, debating on whether to climb out the window and run home while he still could. He could just turn it down, obviously. It wasn't as if Otabek could tube feed him. Being in the clinic had also taught him that anybody who couldn't physically force food down his throat was no longer such a threat to him. It was easy to just say no until they gave up. Otabek returned with a chocolate bar, probably the worst thing he could offer to a struggling anorexic.   
'I don't eat chocolate,' Yuri lied through his teeth.   
'Of course not,' Otabek rolled his eyes, also producing a bag of crisps. 'Take your pick.'   
Yuri gingerly took the bag, not even opening it because it felt like the oil inside would seep into his skin and make him fat again. He was still reeling from being at such a low weight and he was relishing every second of it while he could. Before he'd found it almost impossible to maintain anything lower than what he'd been before hospitalisation, but his metabolism had been boosted after the tube feeding and his body was now tearing itself apart because it was less used to starving. Otabek took the bag and opened it for him, taking one out and eating it himself.   
'See? Easy,' He thrust the bag towards him.   
'I can't,' Yuri shuffled away, his expression one of guilt mixed with terror.   
'Yes you can! Come on, just one?'  
'No! No, I'm sorry. I can't do it,' Tears formed in his eyes and Otabek sighed, putting the bag down.   
'Okay, we'll try that again later,' He pulled Yuri into a hug and stroked his hair softly. 'Didn't you eat at the clinic, though?'  
'Yeah, but I-' Yuri closed his mouth before anything could slip out. He didn't want to admit that he'd thrown everything up and burned as many calories as was possible in the too substantial time that he wasn't being supervised.   
'But what?'  
He sighed heavily and folded his arms across his chest. He was so sick of everybody talking only about his eating disorder. He had a life outside of it (or so he tried to tell himself- in reality it tended more often than not to permeate that 'other life') and sometimes it was nice to pursue that. Like now, for example.   
'Can we just take a time out from all of that?' He suggested, shuffling around to face Otabek and pleading with his best impersonation of puppy dog eyes. 'I just want to be normal for a while.'  
'Okay, I understand,' Otabek nodded, completely taken in by his irrefutable expression. They seemed to gravitate naturally towards each other, Yuri just wanting something that would melt his mind and Otabek unable to stay away from him when he looked so adorable and pouty. The kiss started off slow and gentle, but when Yuri started making soft breathy noises Otabek couldn't help but pick it up a bit. Somehow they ended up on his bed, Yuri sat on his lap as he leaned against the headboard, his bony fingers cold against Otabek's chest.   
'This is okay, right?' Otabek panted, remembering what had happened the last time.   
'Mm-hmm,' Yuri managed to gasp, barely coming up for breath. Otabek's hands wandered further down his back, gripping at his hips and pulling them closer. They then tugged at the hem of his shirt, moving to pull it over his head.   
'Wait,' Yuri whispered, taking his hands and moving them away. 'Wait, I can't- I'm sorry.'   
He retreated to the other end of the bed, his head hung in shame and his fingers knotted together.   
'What's wrong?' Otabek frowned. 'If you don't want this- if you don't like me like that, that's fine. I don't want to be pressuring you into anything here.'  
'You're not! I- I do like you.'  
'Just not like that?'  
'No, I do! I... Maybe there's something wrong with me.'  
'What?'  
'It's not that I don't want to do it with you, I don't want to do it with anyone,' His face crumpled and he brought his knees up to his chest to hide behind them.   
'Assuming we're both on the same lines of what 'it' is, are you just afraid?'  
'No. I mean, yeah. But I don't want to do it in the first place.'  
'Okay, then have you ever considered- and this is just a suggestion- that you might be asexual?'  
'What? You mean I'm going to divide in two?' Yuri raised a skeptical eyebrow.   
'Hang on,' Otabek leapt up and grabbed his laptop from his desk, bringing up Google and searching the word up, handing the laptop over to Yuri. He browsed the words and an odd sense of peace came over him.   
'Someone who does not experience sexual attraction,' He read aloud. 'May feel romantic attraction... How did you know about this?'   
'I've been part of the community longer than you. You read up about things, you talk to people.'  
'Community?'  
'Queer community.'  
'I'm not part of it! I don't, like, go to meetings or anything.'  
'You think there are gay meetings? Babe, you're gay. Or whatever you are, I don't know.'  
Yuri groaned and lay down on the bed on his stomach, burying his face into the duvet. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been to kiss a boy and not even think about the fact that it meant he was gay? Of course he was- touching his neck and feeling the slightly sore patches were proof enough. Otabek lay down beside him and draped an arm round his waist, scooting up close and kissing his neck.   
'I think I should tell my mum,' Yuri mumbled, still not revealing his face that was no doubt red as a tomato. 'About the gay thing.'  
Otabek answered with a silence, not one to tell anybody what to do with their lives.   
'Shit, I think she'll be mad at me,' Yuri moaned, turning around to face Otabek.   
'Why?'  
'She wanted a son.'  
'And you're not?' Otabek frowned.   
'It's not like that. I'm just kind of a shitty excuse for a boy, aren't I?' He sat up, and Otabek propped himself up on his elbow to look up at him with concern etched clearly into his expression.   
'Explain.'  
'Well first of all, I have an eating disorder. Major fuck-up there, and it's breaking her heart to boot. Second- I'm gay. Third, turns out I'm not even properly gay because I don't even want to have sex. What if I just think I am? I mean, kissing you is nice but I don't want to go any further and I wonder if maybe I'm just deluding myself...'  
Otabek took his hand and kissed it gently, making Yuri blush like a fool.   
'Do you feel something when I do that?' He asked.   
'Yeah.'  
'Like butterflies?' He grinned, sitting up to kiss him.   
'Like butterflies,' Yuri rolled his eyes and kissed him back.   
'Your sexuality isn't just about sex. Being a man isn't just about sex. You're still her son, anyway. She can dislike it all she wants but she can't hate you.'  
Yuri sighed and lay down again, pulling Otabek with him and resting his head on his chest. He closed his eyes, his head rising and falling with Otabek's breath and listening to his heart murmuring in his ear. It was slower than his own erratic one, but it still sounded a little fast. Was that due to him? He couldn't quite believe that he could have such an effect on anybody, especially not somebody so out of his league. Said person began to stroke his hair and he made a quiet snuffling noise, snuggling closer into his chest and snaking an arm round his waist. It was so comforting to just be held, even if it was by somebody he shouldn't be wanting to be held by. He knew if he told his friends (and realistically, he'd have to) they'd probably think he was a freak- maybe even ostracise him, turn him into a pariah. Could he face that? He relied on his friends a lot because he actually was quite socially awkward, and they were easygoing and pretended he was normal. He didn't think they'd hate him for it or anything, though. He knew some of them would joke around and poke fun at him every now and then, but that was nothing compared to what it could be. He didn't really know how to broach the asexual thing, but that was actually what worried him most. His guy friends were always talking about sex, what would they think if he told them he didn't care about it? He took a deep breath and tried to rid himself of deep thoughts. He was happy in the here and now- a present where he wasn't the dying anorexic boy who woke up in the middle of the night in pain so intense he could barely breathe, he was just curled up with somebody who he just so happened to really like. This was his little moment of respite and he intended to enjoy it as much as possible while it lasted.


	14. Chapter 14

Otabek knew he ought to wake Yuri up so he could let his mum know where he was or something, but it was so cathartic to have him asleep on his chest that he just couldn't. The relaxed expression on his face was so adorable and rare that all he could do was stare at it uselessly, his heart swelling with affection. Still, even in sleep he didn't look completely carefree; his cheeks were hollow and his eyes were sunken in, giving his face a haunted look about it. He waited for about half an hour until Yuri's green eyes slowly flickeded open and he groaned quietly, not moving away. They stared at each other for a long and pensive moment, Otabek's eyes carefully reading his expression.   
'What time is it?' Yuri whispered, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment that had just passed between them.   
'Eleven.'  
'Crap, I should've been home an hour ago...'  
'Want me to drive you home?'  
Yuri shook his head and sat up to grab his phone, scrolling through the irrigated and mildly panicked messages from his mother. He couldn't blame her for being worried when he'd given her so much cause to be of late. He texted her that he was fine, he'd just fallen asleep.   
'Stay over then,' Otabek told him, no hint of teasing in his tone.   
'Seriously?' Yuri was kind of surprised. Didn't staying over mean something a little more than just sleeping- something he really wasn't up to?   
'It's cold tonight. I could use the warmth,' Otabek smirked, dragging him back down and cosying up to him.   
'Fine,' Yuri stuck his tongue out and texted his mum to tell her the change in plans. She'd have to deal with it, whether she liked it or not. Otabek grinned and kissed him first on the forehead, then on the nose, and finally briefly on his lips.   
'Night, babe,' He whispered, and Yuri went pink. There it was again- Otabek had called him babe earlier as well. He hated how squee it made him feel. He'd lost every last essence of his masculinity now. Despite his qualms about the pet names, he did happen to like it and the warmth spreading through his chest rocked him into a deep and dreamless sleep, unlike any rest he'd had for weeks beforehand. 

              Otabek was rudely awoken by a hand clutching at his late into the night, or early in the morning depending on how you looked at it. He forced his eyes open and as his brain slowly began to function, the hand relinquished. He reached over to his bedside table to flick the lamp on, casting light over Yuri's small form curled tightly into a ball. His fists were clenched and he had screwed his eyes tightly shut, moaning softly to himself. He looked to be in some kind of inextricable agony.   
'Shit, are you okay?' He launched upwards to a sitting position and put a hand on his back.   
'Fine,' Yuri choked out, but given by the way he was whimpering like a lost kitten he clearly wasn't. 'Just stomach cramp.'  
Otabek knew better by now than to take his word for it and within moments he was on his feet trying to figure out what the best course of action was. To be honest, Yuri looked like he was about to drop dead. A thin sheen of sweat covered his ghostly pale forehead and his teary eyes were coming in and out of focus constantly, at times rolling back into his head as a fresh wave of agony rolled over him. Watching him writhe and contort in pain was torturous and he couldn't endure it a second longer without doing something.   
'I'll be two seconds,' He promised, legging it down the stairs to retrieve a cold glass of water, a hot water bottle and an aspirin. It was the best he could do at such short notice, and waiting for the kettle to boil so he could fill up the hot water bottle was excruciating. He dashed back up the stairs with everything in hand to find that Yuri was standing up, pacing painstakingly slowly back and forth and gripping at his stomach.   
'Sit down,' Otabek kept his voice far steadier than he was feeling. Once Yuri was sat on the bed, leaning against a mountain of pillows Otabek had constructed, he helped him take the aspirin and a few sips of water, then pressed the hot water bottle to his stomach. He bent down and tested his forehead for heat, discovering that he was burning up. His hands, however, as they gripped Otabek's, were icy cold. He retracted one hand to lay it against Yuri's stomach, gently massaging it underneath the hot water bottle.   
'It'll pass,' Yuri breathed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke.   
'Shouldn't it be me saying that?' Otabek chuckled lightly and scooted up next to him to lay his head on his shoulder. 'How often does this happen?'  
'Used to be only every few days or so, but recently it's been every night.'  
'Have you seen a doctor?'  
'Umm, yeah. They said it's part of the anorexia and my organs are breaking down or something. Pretty shitty, as things go.'   
'And they didn't give you any medication?'  
'They assumed I was in recovery because I got hospitalised. But I wasn't,' Yuri's eyes began to water. The late hour playing with his mind combined with the pain making his thoughts jump about blurred the line between his brain and his mouth. 'And I'm not. At the clinic I just threw up everything and overexercised.'   
'Jesus, I'm sorry,' Otabek picked his head up and looked down into his eyes. Yuri smiled hesitantly, but it didn't match his pain-stricken eyes or the tears slowly rolling down his ashen cheeks. 'I'm going to help you. You know that, right?'  
'Why would you bother? I think I'm beyond redemption.'  
'Because you're important to me.'  
'How important?'   
'How important do you want to be?'  
'How important am I allowed to be?'  
Otabek laughed at him and squeezed his shoulder. When he didn't answer, Yuri huffed and folded his arms across his chest, ducking his head and biting his lip. He supposed he'd been a little too audacious in his words and needed to reign himself in a little. He couldn't expect too much of Otabek; he had countless friends and was probably flirting with multiple people anyway. It wasn't as if he was special or anything. What was so interesting about a skinny white boy with little to no social ability and a life duller than drywall, with no libido to boot? Maybe it was the exhaustion from being kept constantly awake by pain or his thoughts hounding him, or perhaps it was because Otabek had a weird veritas effect on him, but he was feeling it strongly and somehow these thoughts fumbled their way into words, flooding out of him. He told Otabek about his constant feelings of inadequacy, how he felt like if he ever gained weight people would stop talking to him because they weren't worried about him anymore, how his anorexia had become a wall for him to hide behind. All the while, Otabek just sat there and listened, watching as the tears began to pour and mirroring them with his own slower ones. He didn't touch him or try to comfort him, knowing he needed a moment of space and to just get it all out in the open. They sat in silence for a good ten minutes or so once Yuri had finished speaking, reeling in the light of everything he had given voice to. Yuri broke the silence first with a hushed laugh, and Otabek was startled.   
'Why did I just tell you all that?' He looked alarmed himself. 'There's things I just said that I haven't told people I've known my entire life, but I told you when I've known you for like a month. Kind of pathetic, right?'  
'Brave,' Otabek corrected, finally moving to hug him. He heaved him into his arms and planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek. 'And I promise you don't have to feel like you're not enough. You're enough for me. There's no mythical line that constitutes being enough; no amount of weight lost, friends or sex will make you enough, because you already are.'  
'Why are you so nice to me?' Yuri grumbled. 'Even though I take up so much of your time and I ruined Rafael's party and made you drive all the way to Scotland just for me to be a jerk and-'  
'Made me? Yuri, I think maybe your brain is shutting down too. Get it into your ridiculous mind that I like you.'   
'But why?' He cried, gesturing wildly, unable to comprehend that anybody- especially somebody so out of his league- would like him in that way. He didn't even like himself!   
'I don't know. You're special.'  
'Gee, thanks. That much I know-'  
'Shh!' Otabek interrupted him by placing a hand over his mouth. 'I really, really like you and that's it. I love all of you.'   
Yuri froze.   
'Love?' He echoed, his cheeks burning and eyes wide.   
'Oh, nothing like love love,' Otabek rushed to reassure him. 'I just want you to know that you're worthy of love, or whatever.'  
Yuri was taken aback by how gauche he was suddenly acting. Usually he was the epitome of cool, always collected and serene- even when he was crying earlier, he'd seemed in control of himself, unlike Yuri who had been sobbing unceremoniously. That was another thing- how could somebody who'd seen him ugly crying so often not be entirely put off? And who would want to kiss him when his mouth tasted permanently of blood- moreover, why would anybody bother with an anorexic boy in the first place? It wasn't exactly cute. Even Otabek with his apparent saviour complex couldn't be too interested in helping him through it. It was a 60 foot high wall that nobody could scale for him. He'd constructed it anyway, so it wasn't like he was going to want to get past it. He didn't know what lay beyond and that scared him. He was the only thing he could control; everything but his own self was out of his hands and therefore terrifying. The feeling he got from seeing that by his own deliberate fault he'd lost sickening amounts of weight electrified like nothing else ever could and he never wanted to let go of that feeling.   
He didn't know if he'd be anorexic for his entire life. Hell, he didn't know if he had much of a life left given the way his body was giving up on him- even he couldn't ignore the various aches and pains that constantly haunted him and the way everybody looked at him like he was about to drop dead. May as well lose a load of weight and go down in glory, right? But if he did stick it through and lived to see the rest of his life pass, he had no clue what was in store for him. He had always thought he'd settle down with a girl and have a few kids to pass on the Plisetsky name, then die a wizened and grumpy old man in a home. Never had he foreseen that he might develop a chronic illness or discover that he was both gay and asexual. Where did that leave him? Settling down with a man, then? And no kids. Maybe he could adopt. He didn't really feel like he wanted kids but his mum would be disappointed if she didn't have grandchildren. Yeah, he could adopt some kids and leave his partner to deal with them while he travelled the world or something. The realisation that he didn't have to be confined to a wife and kids and a generic storybook life gave him a sense of liberation that he would endeavour to chase until his time came, whenever that might be. Then again, he hadn't considered his mum's reaction to him being gay yet. She could be angry with him or, even worse, kick him out. He wasn't sure where he'd go if that happened, but he could probably rely on a friend to begrudgingly shelter him for a while whilst he sorted his life out. In fact, it might be a good idea to create that contingency plan before he told his mum. He knew she loved him, but he also knew she had catholic roots and what that kind of upbringing could do to some people.   
'Do your parents know?' He asked Otabek, who looked at him with a bemused expression. 'That you're gay, I mean.'  
'Hmm? Yeah, of course they do.'  
'And they're okay with it?'  
'Well, they don't really think about it. I think they accepted a long time ago that I'm always going to be my own person whatever they say.'   
'What if my mum hates me for it?'  
'She won't. And if anything happens, you know you can stay here for as long as you need.'  
'Thanks. You know, for everything. You're kind of keeping me sane right now,' As Yuri spoke, he realised that the stomach pains had subsided. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and wriggled his way back down into the bed, tucking himself into the duvet and inhaling deeply. It was just moments before he felt Otabek's arms wrapping around him, enveloping him in their warm embrace. Being mantled like this made him feel a little anxious in case his parents should walk in, but he was too tired to put up a fight and in all honesty he didn't particularly want to in the first place. His lips found Otabek's in the darkness, no longer tired but aching to feel wanted for even just a moment. His hands moved of their own accord to grip at Otabek's shirt, then slipping under it to rest against his chest.   
'I think you must be related to Dwayne Johnson,' He marvelled at how solid the ridged muscles were.   
'Oh really?' Otabek smirked and rolled on top of him, supporting himself with his elbows. 'I didn't know he had family in Kazakhstan.'   
'I didn't know you did.'  
'There's a lot you don't know about me, Yuri Plisetsky.'   
'Can you tell me?'  
'Mm. maybe tomorrow. For now, I'm quite enjoying kissing you...'  
Yuri giggled and smiled bashfully up at him, threading his hands through his perfectly gelled hair and taking particular joy in mussing it up by pulling him down so that their lips met once more. Otabek met him halfway, eager as ever and yet still so hesitant.   
'You don't have to be so careful with me,' Yuri told him scornfully as Otabek dropped his head down to kiss his neck.   
'I feel like you're going to break,' Otabek murmured into his skin.   
'I'm not as fragile as you think.'  
Otabek smiled tenderly at him, but then it turned devilish and he attacked his mouth with a new vigour. Yuri moaned and hooked a leg round his waist, arching his back and whimpering as Otabek bit his lip.   
Otabek was still struggling to give Yuri what he wanted, still afraid he might snap if he held him too tightly. With anybody else he was as rough as he pleased (providing this roughness was welcome), but with Yuri he wanted to preserve him and keep him safe rather than corrupt him and hurt him. Yuri, however, was going all out, clasping at him and letting slip quiet noises of pleasure. He even went so far as to pinch Otabek's ass, making him burst out in laughter.   
'You're deranged,' He chuckled, getting his own back by biting down on his lower lip and tugging at him between his teeth. 'You really like it rough?'  
'Jesus, I don't know!' Yuri gasped. 'I'm sixteen, I don't think it's crossed my mind. You're kind of going hard now though, right? Well, one part of you is, but...'  
'Ah. You noticed.'  
'Hard not to when you're grinding against me like that.'  
'Sorry.'  
Yuri grinned, but underneath his roguish persona he was flustered to the point of passing out. This was the furthest he'd ever gone with anybody and the fact that it was Otabek made it a thousand times more potent. He blinked slowly up at him and tried to gather his thoughts as he hooked a finger through Otabek's waistband.   
'I can do something about that if you want,' He whispered, his tone teasing but his eyes serious as hell and he winked to make sure Otabek knew it was a genuinely standing offer.   
'Are you really as young as you say you are?'  
'I'm just as shocked as you are.'  
'How about you just get some rest? Don't you need to go to school tomorrow?'  
'I can take a day off. I was just in hospital.'  
'Yeah, precisely. This is too much for you when-'  
Yuri shut him up by unzipping his flies and making him choke on his tongue, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping. Otabek kissed him so he didn't have to think about his hands, taking his mind off of what they were doing and holding back his voice so he didn't piss off his parents like he had last time a guy had spent the night. The next morning had been awkward at the breakfast table, especially given the fact that said guy he'd brought home had been one of his dad's interns at the time. His dad had been a little pissed off, but Otabek could hardly see how it was his fault that he'd hired such a gorgeous man with a slightly too loud voice that travelled through walls well.   
Now, it was somebody he really cared about and he didn't want Yuri to face the same uncomfortable atmosphere in the morning. He was sure his mum would remember their conversation from a few weeks ago about his nameless friend with anorexia and assume that this 'friend' was the person who'd stayed overnight, and she would without a doubt be a genius at subtly feeding him. She had a wondrous way of feeding people without them even noticing they were eating; he envied her prowess sometimes because he could really use it with Yuri.   
'I have literally no idea what I'm doing,' Yuri mumbled this confession and Otabek blinked hard to bring himself back to his present situation.   
'Of course you don't,' He snorted and guided his hands, their eyes not leaving each others' for a moment.   
Yuri couldn't look away from Otabek, drawn in by his shadowy eyes that had darkened yet more in the poor light thrown into the room through the window by streetlights. The only sounds he could hear were Otabek's breath and his own heart beating disturbingly fast. He managed to convince himself that it was just emotion.   
'Shit,' Otabek muttered, clenching his fists in Yuri's hair. 'Shit... I- ah!- could look at you all day.'  
'Creep,' Yuri grumbled, his eyes finally dropping. When they did, he became embarrassed and looked up towards the ceiling.   
'Look at me,' Otabek breathed. He cupped his cheek and forced him to look up at him. He bent down to kiss him lazily, their tongues sliding together and their bodies pressed up against each other, Yuri doing things he never thought he'd do. Otabek moaned low into his ear and clutched at his hair, his head spinning as Yuri gasped breathily along with him.   
'I c- Jesus, Yuri!' Otabek gushed, half laughing and half crying out as he came. Yuri startled a bit but pressed his lips to Otabek's and smiled against him.   
'Get some sleep, babe,' Otabek told him, rolling away and giving him some space to cool down since he was bright red in the face and gasping for breath. Despite their distance, they held hands tightly and the second Yuri's body returned to its frigid state of iciness he squirmed back into Otabek's arms, knowing he'd be so humiliated the next morning. He didn't care because this was the best thing that had happened to him in a while. He finally felt tired due to the heat of the moment that had just occurred, and sleep came relatively peacefully to him for the second time that night.


	15. Chapter 15

'You're such an ass,' Yuri grumbled as Otabek posted the morning selfie he'd demanded they take before getting up. 'That was so unflattering.'  
'That's why it's a morning selfie,' Otabek said it like it was obvious.   
'Oh, of course. I don't have any clothes, by the way, since my shirt is now... Stained.'  
'Hmm? Borrow some of mine,' He dug through his wardrobe and threw a shirt at him. Yuri pulled it on and was relieved that it swamped him. Firstly, he couldn't handle it if he fit Otabek's shirt- he wasn't fat, but he had so much muscle that for Yuri to be of the same proportion would mean he was fat. Secondly, he hated anything that showed his body. This was why he stuck primarily to oversized sweaters and shapeless hoodies. He borrowed a spare toothbrush and they brushed their teeth together, their eyes occasionally meeting in the mirror as they checked each other out not-so-subtly. When Yuri dragged his eyes away to inspect himself in the mirror, he groaned in frustration. His neck was littered with hickeys, with one particularly large one just underneath his jaw in the most visible position possible.   
'What are you, a leech?' He whined, prodding at them and wincing.   
'Next time I see you, wear a turtleneck and it won't happen.'  
'Oh, so it's my fault?'  
'You did kind of tell me you wanted it rough.'  
Yuri grunted and flipped him off, yanking his fingers through his hair and tugging it back into a bun as Otabek dragged him downstairs to the kitchen where his parents were sat at the table discussing the newspaper headlines. They looked up and Yuri immediately felt incredibly self conscious about his neck, but all they did was smile and Otabek's dad uttered a gruff hello before returning to his paper.   
'I'm just saying that in light of the recent claims made on....' He continued to blather to his wife, who was feigning interest as her eyes drifted across the business page.   
'Still reading up about your opposition?' Otabek leaned over her shoulder and kissed her cheek. She nodded vacantly and continued to search the articles for whatever she was looking for.   
'Okay, we have... Cereal, toast, yoghurt, cereal in the fridge for some reason- mum, why is the cereal in the fridge?' Otabek pulled a box of name brand cereal out, a frown on his face.   
'Your father likes it cold,' She explained, her eyes still not leaving the pages of the paper.   
'Right. Well, that's your options.'  
'Can I just have a glass of water?' Yuri knew he'd never get away with it before he even asked, but it was worth a try.   
'Cereal it is,' Otabek winked, stretching up to pull two bowls down from a shelf. He hummed as he poured the milk in over the cereal and grabbed two spoons, tapping them rhythmically on the counter before placing them in the bowls. He handed one over to Yuri and they sat down next to his parents, who didn't look up.   
'I'm not really hungry,' Yuri said quietly, wishing they could have done this somewhere else or at a different time. He wasn't ready to admit that he still couldn't eat, even after everything he'd said last night. 'I don't want to get cramp again.'  
'Not a chance,' Otabek leaned forwards and took his spoon for him. 'Do I have to feed you?'  
Yuri, humiliated to be in the presence of two adults and being threatened with being fed, snatched the spoon back and begrudgingly ate half a mouthful.   
'There. Happy now?' His voice had an icy edge to it and Otabek chuckled at his attitude.   
'Five more?'  
'No.'  
'Four.'  
'No.'  
'Five.'  
'You just went up!'  
'Yeah, if you're difficult the number goes up.'  
'That's so unfair! Anyway, you can't threaten me. I could just walk out now and go home and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it,' He pointed out. Otabek took his hand from across the table, their fingers locking together.   
'Do you remember the first time we met?' He asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.   
'Sure. You spilt tea all over me.'  
'No, actually. I was lost in the hospital and I ended up staring at you. You got kind of pissed off.'  
'Oh god, really? I forgot about that! I'm sorry, I was in a bad mood- doctor's appointment, you know...'  
'That much was obvious when you decided we were playing truant. You were brave enough to make me abscond with you. And when we went to London and trainhopped and you just went along with it.'  
'I also passed out and ran away from you,' Yuri reminded him, not seeing how this conversation was related to anything.   
'Then you climbed up a tree and told me you were going to get home on your own. If you're so brave that you can do all of that, can't you handle five spoonfuls of cereal?'   
Yuri groaned in frustration and glanced across at Otabek's parents, who had their eyes trained on their respective newspapers.   
'They go completely deaf in the morning,' Otabek assured him. Yuri's hand trembled as he raised the spoon to his lips, an internal battle sparking up inside. Yes, he could perfectly well eat the food. All he had to do was instruct his muscles to do so just five times and he was free to go and Otabek would stop worrying about him. On the other hand, his mind was screaming at him that something so simple as liking somebody was not enough to allow him the self-indulgent pleasure of eating. It would be a betrayal of everything he'd worked for. If he ate this, thought it may be small, what next? Would he be taken over by the unstoppable urge to binge until he could barely move and then be forced to throw it all up again, tearing apart his throat and ripping his insides to pieces. He could not endure that pain for another moment.   
His phone rang and he dropped the spoon suddenly, scrabbling to pick up the call. It was from his mother and he instantly felt cold fear settle into his stomach.   
'Hi, sweetheart. Do you have a moment?'  
'Yeah,' He stood up and indicated to Otabek that he needed a minute or two. 'What is it?'  
'Did you forget about your appointment today?'  
'Shit,' He cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course... She'd scheduled an appointment with a new doctor after the clinic had completely failed to help him in any way.   
'Are you still at your friend's?'  
'Yeah. Sorry, I forgot. What time is it?'  
'In about an hour. It's quite a drive, though, so we should be leaving now, really. Text me the address and I'll pick you up.'  
'Okay. Sorry, I should have remembered.'  
'That's okay, darling. I'll see you in a minute, okay?'  
'Yeah.' He hung up and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. How had he ended up like this? He'd never faced any trauma or hardship in his life so why did he have to be the one to be anorexic? There were times when he felt like he didn't deserve it and the entire universe was just pitted against him, and this was one of those moments.   
'Everything okay?' Otabek stepped out into the hallway, and he nodded because he didn't trust his voice not to crack for the time being. He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves so that he could speak.   
'Doctor's appointment. I need to go.'  
'Oh, sure. When can I next see you?'  
'I don't know,' Yuri smiled, and Otabek wasn't sure but he thought he could detect some sadness behind it. Within twenty minutes he was gone, and they had barely spoken a word. Otabek couldn't put his finger on when exactly the atmosphere had changed into something a little wrought with tension, but for that twenty minutes he had felt it. He knew it was probably just Yuri being on edge over a doctor's appointment, but he couldn't help but blame himself a little.   
'Is that the friend?' He jumped as his mum tapped him on the shoulder.   
'Yeah,' He sighed, not bothering to lie.   
'I can see why you're worried. He's the one from the hospital, isn't he?'  
'You remember?'  
'I heard you talking.'  
'I have no idea what to do with him. He literally looks like death.'   
'It's tricky. Is he seeing a doctor?'  
'Yeah. He just went to hospital for two weeks and he came out looking worse. How is that even possible?' He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. 'They should've helped him!'  
'Come on. Sit down, have a coffee, and invite one of your friends over,' She knew her son was extroverted and needed to be around people to recharge, but she had too much to do and too many business calls to take and she didn't think he'd talk much to her anyway. 'Where's Sirabhi these days?'  
'Yeah, I'll text her. Can I have a few people over?'  
'Knock yourself out. Don't drink too much!'  
'We won't drink.'  
She raised an eyebrow and just patted him on the shoulder. He half-smiled and pulled his phone out to text his friends, however much he'd rather be spending time with Yuri, and prayed that by some miracle they'd relieve the feelings of stress that were beginning to creep up on him. 

 

An hour later, it was safe to say that Otabek could barely remember his own name, let alone why he had been so worried. The same could be said for Sirabhi, Rafael, Amira and Denver. Denver had been the one to start drinking initially when Otabek told them they weren't going to, and then the alcohol had flowed relentlessly until they were all pickled in it.   
'So then I told her I wouldn't do it unless she brought the cat!' Amira giggled hysterically, gesturing wildly, bottle of Jack in hand. Otabek lay back on the bed and laughed, Sirabhi lying across his stomach and chuckling with him.   
'You can't do that,' Rafael informed her with a sly grin. 'Something tells me Otabek is a taken man.'  
'Oh, we've all seen the picture,' Sirabhi smirked, poking her inebriated friend in the chest.   
'What?' He narrowed his eyes, looking between the pair of them with suspicion.   
'You're like a leech,' Denver teased, taking their phone out and bringing up his latest post, zooming in on Yuri's neck. 'Poor kid.'   
'Yeah, but we're not serious or anything. Not yet.'  
'Yet?' Rafael interjected incredulously. 'You mean to tell me you're actually thinking of it? I don't think you've had a serious relationship in your life. You can't be settling down.'  
'You say that like I'm getting married and retiring in Cheshire. I just have a crush.'  
'I never thought I'd hear you say that word,' Rafael inclined his head and widened his eyes briefly. 'So, he stayed over last night. Anything happen?'  
'Not really,' He kept his tone light, but heavy with suggestion. 'I don't know how to bring it up, though. I've never had to do this before.'  
'Just sleep with him and ask him afterwards. Pillow talk- sweetens them up.'  
'You're gross,' Otabek shoved Rafael, still grinning. 'Seriously, give me some advice.'  
'Me? You know I'm a notorious flirt, but I can't give relationship advice. We're a load of useless wasters when it comes to that.'   
'Ugh. I just don't want to push him into anything he doesn't feel comfortable with.'  
'Jesus Christ,' Rafael rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, shoving him back. 'You're so whipped. I can't be around you like this. Drink some more and drunk call him.'   
Otabek flipped him off, but took the jack from Amira and downed the last of it, egged on by his friends until the bottle was empty, at which point he threw it across the room in a gesture of pride.   
'The next time I see him, I'll ask,' He announced grandly, and Rafael tackled him with vigour. 'Just because you're jealous!'  
'I swear to god I'll rip your teeth out if you don't shut up...' 

 

Yuri knew his mother had been staring at his neck intermittently the entire drive up to the doctor's, then in the waiting room, and then on the journey home. The appointment had been nothing special; yet more blood tests so this doctor could inspect its components and chemical balance, a weigh-in, talks about therapy and this and that... They'd given up on therapy a few months ago because he always refused to talk, no matter how kind and inspiring they were. He pursed his lips and would let slip nothing along the lines of how he was feeling or why he was doing this or how he could be helped. He talked about school and his friends and his childhood and whatever they saw fit to ask, clearly searching for some kind of trauma to blame his eating disorder on, but they'd never found anything of interest. He didn't even know himself why he was like this- he just was, and there was nothing else to it. Why couldn't they understand that he'd just accidentally succumbed to a load of bullshit beauty ideals designed for and enforced on girls? In any case, his mother was still staring at his neck, probably making her own assumptions. Did she know it was Otabek? She hadn't breathed a word so far, but he could tell she was itching to talk about it. To avoid the conversation he took out his phone, which he had been neglecting for a while as he knew his friends wouldn't be texting as they didn't know his new number. He'd most likely have quite a lot of messages on social media demanding to know where the hell he'd been for two weeks, especially as they'd all be wanting to know what the party had been like. Thinking back to that night, it seemed like a million years had passed since. He knew so much more about himself now that he hadn't then. He'd also lost fifteen pounds, discovered he was asexual, and on top of all of that he was going to fail all of his exams after missing so much school. His GCSEs were starting in just a few months and he'd missed half the damn school year for various appointments, sick days and now a two week period of hospitalisation. His prospects weren't looking too shiny. He frowned to himself as he opened up his phone, wishing there was some way he could fix everything but seeing as how he was still kind of dying it didn't seem highly likely. He opened instagram and replied to a few friends, telling them he'd been off sick and yes, he was coming in tomorrow. His notifications had blown up again and he remembered the 'morning selfie' he'd been cajoled into taking. It was actually quite cute, so he screenshotted it. One thing he did notice before he braved reading the comments was how visible his hickeys were, and the fact that t pretty much looked like they were in bed together- which they had been at the time, but nobody needed to know that. It wasn't like they were exclusive or anything, so people knowing would be awkward. Not to mention the fact that Otabek was (obviously) a guy. Most of the comments were just generic 'so cute' remarks, but every now and then he saw the same 'he looks like he's dying' stuff that he'd had to witness before. Why was everybody so obsessed with how he looked? And why were there people glorifying it, saying they wished they were that thin? This sickness had only ever brought him pain, even in his distorted achievements, so it struck him as blind insanity that anybody would aspire to such a thing. They clearly didn't know the pain of having to hold his breath around his own mother so he didn't dissolve into a painful coughing fit in which he would end up coughing clots of blood. They didn't know the sheer agony of the perpetual rawness of his throat and the feeling of shame when he purged, like he was disgusting and unworthy of anything akin to love or affection. They'd never know just how much he hated himself for doing this to the people who loved him- had loved him. He commented a few heart emojis to let Otabek know he'd seen it, then checked his texts.   
'That's such a dodgy pic!' Somebody had sent him along with a screenshot of the morning selfie. He didn't grace them with a reply, but when he saw that his closer friends had also picked up on it he told them all that he hadn't seen it until they'd pointed it out and they needed to get their minds out of the gutter. A few questions about the hickeys were vanquished by his tale of a girl Otabek knew, and that was that. Job done, panic over. He knew one day he'd have to tell them, but he didn't know how much a part of his life Otabek was and without that sense of security he didn't want to divulge anything.   
'Who's the girl then?' His mother finally asked the question and he struggled to conceal the sigh of relief. Now he could get it over and done with.   
'Friend of Otabek's,' He lied with his expert tongue. He'd become something of a genius at constructing perfect counterfeits from spinning a web of half-truths. 'Met her at that party and saw her last night. She's really nice, by the way.'   
'The party where you had to get your stomach pumped?'   
'She wasn't drinking. Teetotal.' The words came to him with ease, diving from the tip of his tongue and straight into a truthful sounding narrative as far as he was concerned.   
'Hmm. Is she your girlfriend?'   
'No. I like her, but I don't know if it's that kind of thing,' This much was true. He had no idea where he stood with Otabek, and actually it was beginning to irk him a little. Did he want him or not?   
'Don't play with her heart!'  
'I'm not,' He mumbled, his cheeks beginning to tinge pink. 'Do we need to talk about this?'  
'Are you being safe?'   
'Jesus Christ!' He yelped, covering his face with his hands so she wouldn't see just how red he'd turned. 'No, it's not like that!'   
It was almost laughable that she was trying to have the safe sex talk with her asexual son. And about girls too. Little did she know... He'd tell her soon. Once it felt real. He would bide his time until he had a boyfriend to back up his statement. This seemed like a logical enough plan until he realised it wasn't all that likely that he'd ever have a boyfriend, given that it felt like he was going to die tomorrow with the way his body was aching and decaying at such alarming speeds.   
'Well, if it ever does get like that, be safe. Okay?' She looked just as embarrassed as him and he had to pretend he was reading something on his phone to avoid making direct eye contact with her.   
'Sure,' He muttered. Whilst doing nothing on his phone, it began to ring. Otabek's name flashed up and he was instantaneously flustered. He waited for a few rings to make sure it didn't seem he was too keen or waiting for a call or anything.   
'Heyyyy!' Otabek slurred down the phone, indicating to Yuri that he was probably drunk.   
'You good?' He asked, wracking his brains for a reason for the call. He couldn't discuss the night before with his mother in the car with him.   
'Great. I have a question, anyway. Can I see you tomorrow evening? After school?'   
'I guess. I don't think I'm dong anything.'  
'Cool, because I have something important to ask- hic!- you.'  
'How about eight at my place?'  
'Bloody perfect. See you!' Otabek hung up without a further word and Yuri was rendered confused and misguided. An important question; what on earth could that be? He'd just have to wait and see.


	16. Chapter 16

There was something in the air that evening- something that seemed laced with possibilities and effervescent with tension. Yuri could sense it as he walked home slowly, hands shoved in his pocket and head low. He didn't know whether it was just a projection of his own anxieties or a result of the depression before a predicted storm bringing a crackling static that rose the hairs on his neck. He had a few hours to kill and this was his reason for walking with such leisure, added to which he was doing his best to avoid his friends who were just up ahead. All day long they'd been hounding him about his hickeys, asking who the girl was and whether he could set them up with someone. It made him uncomfortable to lie to them so easily when it would directly affect his ability to tell the truth; the less he told them now, the angrier they'd be later.   
'Mum, Otabek's coming over later,' He called as he walked in the door and stamped his feet on the mat. When no reply came, he assumed she'd be at work or something. He chucked his bag onto a chair and flopped down into the sofa in the sitting room, switching on the TV and mindlessly flicking through the channels until he found one slightly less mind-numbingly boring than the rest. It slowly hypnotised him into a restless sort of sleep from which he constantly awoke uncomfortable and wracked with hunger pangs. By the time he was permanently roused, it was eight o'clock. He groaned and rolled off the sofa, lying on the floor for a second and trying to get his wits about him before he stood up and straightened himself out. He didn't exactly look respectable in his uniform that he'd been wearing for the majority of his time at secondary school, with all its motheaten holes in the jumper and the grass-stains on the knees of the trousers, but it'd have to do. He forced himself to stay away from the door because it felt way too desperate and flighty to wait beside it, but this only made him more nervous. He didn't know why he was so het up about a simple question when Otabek had been drunk when he'd said he wanted to ask it- for all he knew, he could be asking what his favourite colour was. When the doorbell finally rang he jumped and took a few deep breaths as he walked down to it. Otabek was stood on his doorstep wearing his signature leather jacket and biker boots with a roguish expression on his face. Mismatched with his mainly serene exterior were his hands, which were knotted together behind his back and fidgeting anxiously. That was not a good omen.   
'Hey,' He grinned, flashing his teeth.   
'Hi,' Yuri breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and waving him in. 'What did you want to ask?'  
'Unimportant for now. Have you eaten yet?'  
'Yeah, I-'  
'Liar. I brought food. Hope you like Thai,' He brought his hands round and revealed a carrier bag full of takeaway. Yuri gulped hard; takeaway was so greasy and terrifying to him. Nevertheless, he and Otabek sat down at the kitchen counter and he watched him unpacking everything.   
'Do you have any chilli powder?' Otabek piped up as he passed Yuri a box.   
'Uhh, sure. Spice rack over there.'  
Otabek nodded and walked over to where he was directed, at which point he turned round to stare at Yuri in horror. He looked mildly offended and majorly disgusted.   
'What?' Yuri frowned, looking past him to see nothing wrong.   
'This is just salt, pepper, cinnamon and chilli flakes! That's not a spice rack, that's tragic.'  
'I don't really eat spicy food,' Yuri explained, although it wasn't because he didn't like it- it was just absolute hell to purge anything hot. He wanted to preserve as much of his throat as was possible with the already corrosive acid coming up.   
'Sorry, I forget sometimes...'   
'Forget what?'  
'That you're white.'   
Yuri giggled and shrugged nonchalantly, watching Otabek practically empty the pot of chilli powder into his food. He poked at his own food, not even wanting to look at it in case the calories jumped from the picture in his mind to his stomach. It felt wrong to even smell it. Could he ingest calories from breathing in its scent? He pushed it away uneasily, his head swimming. He didn't know if it was fear or he was just dizzy from starvation, but he suddenly felt nauseated.   
'What did you want to ask me?' He quickly brought this up so as to distract Otabek from the fact that he wasn't eating.   
'Oh, right,' Otabek put down his fork, took a long sip of water and stood up, his hands wringing together again. Yuri was struck by how anxious he looked, and it in turn rubbed off on him. 'Look how nervous you're making me.'  
'Me?' It went straight past Yuri that he could possibly be the cause of this. He was always the flustered one, not the flusterer.   
'I'm totally helpless,' Seeing Yuri's bashful smile made Otabek brave and he plucked up what courage he had in his cowardly lion mind. He inhaled cool air to steel his nerves and took Yuri's hands, pulling him up. 'I wanted to ask you if you wanted to make this a serious thing.'   
'Oh,' Yuri gasped and felt his knees go weak. 'Is this a joke?'  
'No, you idiot! Jesus, as if it wasn't hard enough to ask...' Otabek saw how pale his face had turned and how his hand had grabbed at the tabletop. 'I meant it.'  
'Then... Yes,' Yuri surprised him by saying, no hint of uncertainty in his voice. 'But I'll need to tell everyone. I can't keep lying.'  
'Yeah, of course. When?'  
'I mean... Tonight? My mum will be home soon. I'll text my friends tonight or something. Will you stick around while I tell her?' He didn't want to admit he just needed somebody's hand to hold in case she got angry.   
'Whatever you need,' Otabek kissed his head. 'I will be right here.'

Yuri paced back and forth as his mum made herself a cup of tea, raking his hands through his hair and counting his breaths until they were slightly more regular. He'd gotten past the first hurdle of telling her he needed to tell her something, but now he faced the colossal obstacle of telling her said something. She'd looked worried when he'd told her and he was scared she already knew what he was going to say and didn't like it. His breathing became out of sync again as he thought this and he tried desperately not to gasp for breath so.   
'It'll be fine,' Otabek said in a soothing voice, gathering him into a hug.   
'What if she's angry?'  
'Doesn't matter. I'm right here, okay?'  
Yuri nodded and took a deep breath, stepping away and looking up at his boyfriend (okay, that felt weird). It would be fine. Even if his mum was angry, there wasn't much she could do. He could live with Otabek if needs be just for a while until he cooled off and let him come home. He doubted it would come to that, but he'd heard stories before and it was still playing in his mind a little. When his mother finally returned a fresh wave of panic came over him so that he had to sit down before he passed out. She sipped at her tea then put it down on the coffee table and sat in a chair across from him, watching as Otabek sat beside him and put an arm round him.   
'Okay,' Yuri began, his leg bouncing up and down in agitation. 'I've been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I was scared you'd be angry, and I really don't want to piss you off but I- sorry.'   
He smiled and looked down, slowing his thoughts down and trying to organise them into one sentence. He had to get it out and get it over with and that was all. Then it was done and he couldn't procrastinate it any further or stress himself out over how to say it. He opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. He looked to Otabek for help and received nothing but a supportive smile. It did little to ease his vocal constipation, but it did remind him that he wasn't alone in this.   
'So what I've been meaning to say- what I've been trying to tell you is...' He hesitated one last time before blurting it out. 'I'm gay. And Otabek and I are... Are you crying?'  
He watched the tears jump forth to her eyes, spilling over and dropping down her cheeks.   
'I'm sorry,' He hung his head. Shit... For a moment he'd thought she'd be okay with it. Clearly not.   
'No, I'm happy,' She sniffed, shocking both Yuri and Otabek equally. 'I'm happy you wanted to tell me, and I'm glad you've found somebody to make you happy.'  
'Really?' Yuri's eyes lit up and without thinking about it he reached for Otabek's hand, clinging tightly to it as he bit back his own tears. 'I thought you'd be mad.'  
'You're my son. If I didn't love you unconditionally, I wouldn't be your mother.'  
He hugged her, unable to contain his relief. That was one person down, only the rest of the world left to go. He thanked her and hugged her again before dragging Otabek upstairs to discuss strategies of telling his friends. Whatever happened, the last thing he wanted to do was make a big deal out of it, so over text seemed the way to go. He couldn't think of what to say, however, and google was completely useless when he consulted the internet.   
'You know, when I came out to my followers all I did was post a picture of a rainbow,' Otabek told him. 'Everyone was pretty cool with it.'  
'That's actually a really good idea,' A brainwave came to Yuri and he leapt up from where he'd been lying on the floor trying to compose a text to his friends. 'Why don't you just post a picture of us? I think all my friends follow you, and even if only one of them sees it they'll show it to everyone else.'  
'Right. But just a photo of us wouldn't really work- it'd need a caption to explain.'  
'I mean, the photo could be one where we're obviously together.'  
'Gazing lovingly into each other's eyes wearing matching rainbow shirts? Sounds great.'  
'No! Like... I don't know,' He blushed. 'It was a stupid idea. Sorry.'  
Otabek laughed at him and bent down to kiss him. Yuri smiled back and ran his hands through Otabek's hair, messing it up in the way he so loved to do. It was still a tad on the strange side to think that this was his boyfriend when it still felt a little like they hardly knew each other, but overall it was pretty cathartic. He flinched when he heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter.   
'Otabek, did you just take a selfie? Oh my god, you're unbelievable...'  
'There. We have the picture. Should I post it?'  
Yuri frowned, suddenly not so sure anymore. He wanted to have it over with but he was still scared of the backlash. The comments he'd seen on other photos of himself ricocheted through his mind and he wasn't sure he could brave that. He trusted Otabek though, so he nodded. He watched him press post with a new sense of excitement and adrenaline settling in his stomach. Within about five minutes his own phone started to buzz and he gave Otabek a look that he felt perfectly conveyed his feelings of fear because within seconds he was being cuddled as he unlocked his phone.   
'Yuri, wtf?' One friend had texted him.   
'Pls tell me this is a joke' Somebody else had sent. Both came with screenshots of the picture. An added bonus to the photo was the hickeys scattered across his neck, highlighted by the bright light of his bedroom. He texted them all back just a simple winking face and left it at that. Next, he perused the comments on the original post. A lot of it was 'you two are so cute!' with the odd 'I didn't know he was gay??' mixed in. Mostly people were just asking them to confirm their status, and in an astonishing act of bravery he commented that they were boyfriends. Another few minutes and he had a barrage of texts from his closest friends all demanding to know what the hell was going on. No longer could he skirt around the truth, so he issued a unanimous statement to all of them.   
'He's my boyfriend.'   
Short, sweet, blatant. How else could he put it, anyway? Instead of waiting around to receive replies he placed his phone in a drawer out of harm's way so that he wouldn't dwell on it for too long.   
'Can we go somewhere?' He asked, needing a while to take his mind off of things.   
'Sure. Where do you want to go?'  
'I don't care.'  
'Well, I brought my car so we can go anywhere.'  
'Can we go to the park?'   
'The one where we went before?'  
'Yeah,' Yuri felt like there was some sort of poetry to it; returning to the place where he'd first started to question things. That night had been the starting point for when Otabek first kissed him and as a result was technically the reason they were together now. Then again, he could trace it past that point to the moment in the hospital where they'd walked into each other. If he'd been less agitated from his appointment he would never have tried to escape and he certainly never would have been brave enough to talk to him the way he did. He did vaguely remember snapping at him in a waiting room- although he wasn't sure if he was just imagining the memory because he'd been told it had happened- and even now he didn't think he could talk to anyone like that unless he was absolutely furious. Maybe it was because his brain only half functioned these days anyway. He had definitely spiralled a lot since they'd met, and he almost missed the days where he was capable of eating the occasional meal to appease people where now he couldn't eat in front of people for fear they'd think he was faking it. Did that make him an attention seeker? Did it mean he was just doing it to make people think he wasn't eating? It was true that he binged frequently, even if he threw it up afterwards. He had less self control now than ever before but at least he had the strength of self to force it all up, even when his throat felt like shards of glass. It was happening at least six times a week now and he didn't know how much longer he could go on for like this. He was due to go back to the doctor the coming weekend and they were going to talk to him about planning for the future or something stupid. It had been a chirpy woman with close-cropped hair and buck teeth who had conducted the initiation test for the recovery course and she was going to go through the results with him at his next appointment. He was apprehensive about it only because he'd have to talk to them for two hours and he knew it would upset him, but other than that he had nothing else to worry about since up until this point he'd proved beyond help. Added to this his mum was very impatient with his supposed recovery process and the second a treatment wasn't going how it should be she gave up on it. He didn't mind of course, because it kept him away from something that might help him. Deep down, the part of him that still wanted to be normal raged against his self-ruinous behaviour and longed for somebody to save him. Unfortunately, he'd long buried that part and he was steadily rolling down a steep slope to the end of his mortal coil. Otabek's hand took his, leading him down the stairs and distracting him from his assailant thoughts. The walk there was spent in silence after they decided driving was pointless for such a short distance. Once they arrived there, Yuri was alarmed to see that there were still some young children playing on the wooden structures that were covered in lewd graffiti and phone numbers, their parents nowhere to be seen. Doing his best to ignore them, he sat on one of the swings and tipped his head back to look at the sky. The sun was suspended just above the horizon and preparing to dip beneath it so that the Earth's surface had become dewy and fuzzy like an old TV screen. It was light enough to see objects, but not in their correct colours. The stars were blinking lazily at him, hardly piercing the sky. He felt infinitely small staring up at such a vast expanse of nothingness and it brought him such a sense of peace that he sighed contentedly. Looking into the abyss of galaxies and endless, exponential space made his life appear so insignificant and it was moments like this that made him wonder if he was going about things all wrong. Did it really matter whether he took up a bit more space in the grand scheme of things when compared to the universe he was still so inconsequential? He had just one small life, the blink of an eye beside the stretching of time, and perhaps it was futile to waste it making himself miserable all for the sake of looking 'good'. He didn't even look good anyway; he saw the way most people stared at him with horror and disdain rather than awe and envy. He looked like shit with his hollow cheeks and wasted face, his eyes sunken in so that they cast shadows that dulled their light. The problem was it wasn't really about how he looked anymore. It had never been about looking good- it had always been the idea of people seeing him. He wasn't invisible when he was dying, even if he was fading from existence. Everybody's eyes sought him out to ensure he was still living and it was thrilling to say the least. People were scared for him and however awful it was to think like he did, he enjoyed it. They talked to him because they wanted to make him happy so that he'd get better, so the worse he got the nicer people were to him. It was also about being sick. He didn't know why and he didn't know what for, but being sick had become a very key part of his life. He wanted to look as sick on the outside as he felt within so that people would help him. This actually came as a sharp realisation to him, one that made his eyes widen. Did he want help? Did he maybe have a chance after all? Was there any way possible he could heal after all that he'd been through?  
'Do you think I'll ever get better?' He queried suddenly, and Otabek frowned at him.   
'Of course,' He replied without hesitation. 'Why wouldn't you?'  
'Because I haven't been able to after so many professionals have tried to help me.'  
'But you haven't wanted their help. If you don't want it, it won't make a difference.'  
'But nobody wants it! Nobody else at the clinic wanted it at first and they still got better, so why can't I? Why do I have to be stuck like this?'  
'You don't,' Otabek crouched down in front of him, taking both his hands and gripping them tightly in his own. 'You're not stuck. You just need to find a reason to recover.'  
'Like what?'  
'Like happiness. Like not feeling like shit all the time. Like not waking up in the middle of the night in pain.'  
'I don't think I'll ever be happy- I mean, I just don't think this will ever go away.'   
'One day, you'll be looking back on how you are now and you'll be so glad for how far you've come,' Otabek replied and stroked the backs of his hands with his thumbs.   
'I don't know. Maybe,' Yuri conceded, unable to continue the conversation any further. His mood had fallen flat and he needed rebooting or something. He sat on the swing a little while longer and watched as Otabek lit up a cigarette, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the night air. He didn't tell him that it'd fuck him up inside because it felt distinctly hypocritical when he was doing the exact same thing by different means. Instead, he just watched him.   
'I don't usually smoke,' Otabek told him with a guarded expression. 'But it's cold and I'm stressed, so this is where I'm at right now.'  
'You don't have to justify yourself,' Yuri stood up and folded his arms across his chest to stop the hunger pains from attacking so viciously. He'd forgotten about them for a while, but they were beginning to creep back now, so strong this time that he could no longer ignore them. Otabek smiled at him and finished the cigarette before stamping it into the ground with his boot, grinding the butt under his toe.   
'Do I need to get you home?' He inquired, arching an eyebrow.   
'I appreciate the gesture, but I'm actually older than I look. I don't have a curfew.'  
'You're sixteen. Your curfew is eleven.'   
Yuri stuck his tongue out and Otabek returned the gesture, crossing his eyes for added effect.   
'I'm a big boy!' Yuri whined, gathering himself to full height, which still wasn't very tall.   
'The biggest,' Otabek nodded gravely.   
'No bedtime!'  
'No bedtime.'  
'Just play!'  
'Just play.'  
Yuri harrumphed and flopped back down on the swing, demanding that Otabek pushed him. Now that he could be sure of a serious return of feelings it was easier to be a little bolder with their interaction. As he swung a cool breeze tousled his hair, accentuating its rare waves and tossing it behind his shoulders. He leaned back and kicked his legs out, grinning at nothing as the wind buffeted against him. In that moment, he was genuinely happy for the first time since time immemorial. He finally felt like he had something to be happy for.


	17. Chapter 17

The corridors were alive with chatter when Yuri finally returned to school the next morning. To begin with, he'd been absent for bordering on three weeks and on top of that, there was (quite naturally) rampant talk about him and his boyfriend. He hadn't confirmed it to many people, but he had no doubt that his friends had told everybody what he'd said and that screenshots had been spread like the plague. He barely made it to registration before he was accosted by a gaggle of girls from his science set demanding to know what that picture meant.  
'It was just a picture,' He told them through gritted teeth, not enjoying the attention when their eyes were so accusatory. He'd known all along that given the area he lived in and the kind of people that went to his school there'd be people who berated him for being gay, but it was only now that he realised how hard it would be to deal with.  
'But you were kissing him,' One of the girls pointed out helpfully.  
'I hadn't noticed,' He remarked drily. 'Anyway, I have to register. See you in biology.'  
He dashed away before they could even open their mouths to dispute his sudden departure, legging it down to his form room, where things weren't much better. A few guys wolf-whistled when he walked in and he ducked his head in humiliation, sitting down at his desk and pulling out his phone to pretend he had a reason to ignore their cajoling mockeries.  
'Texting your boyfriend, eh, Plisetsky?' Somebody jeered and he flipped them off graciously, at which point Mr. DG waltzed in with a large file in his hands.  
'Yuri, don't give somebody the finger in my class please,' He chided as he sat down at his desk, opening up the file. 'Right. Exam admin.'  
A collective groan went up about the room followed by a discussion of how shitty exams were. He handed everybody's forms out and ensured that they had signed them, then made everybody check they were entered for the right exams.  
'I think mine is wrong,' Hana, the girl sat behind Yuri, announced. 'It says I'm entered for maths.'  
'You all study maths, so you're doing the exam.'  
'Nah.'  
He gave her a pointed look and she rolled her eyes before dropping her argument. The second the class dissolved back into chat Yuri's friends swarmed round him like a hive of bees.  
'Everyone's talking about it,' Guang Hong told him and he wondered briefly if he could use a pen as a drill to dig a hole in the ground that he could bury himself in. 'You know, you and that guy.'  
It was at this point that Yuri regretted telling people. He should've kept his damn mouth shut until he'd left school and moved to somewhere people would be accepting.  
'I don't get it,' Mila sat on his desk. 'How didn't we see it? Wait, is that where you got those hickeys?'  
He self-consciously pulled at his collar in a futile attempt to hide them, flushing bright red and scowling at the floor.  
'Oh my god, it is! Are you sure, though?'  
'Sure about what?' He pouted, not enjoying the newfound attention he was getting as much as he'd thought he might. 'Him? Yeah.'  
'But you don't seem... The type.'  
'Don't start. Seriously, don't.'  
'I was only saying! It's not like you act-'  
'Don't say it,' He sighed heavily, so tired with the way the conversation was headed. If this was the way people were going to treat him for the rest of his life he'd rather have kept his mouth shut...

Yuri had thought his friends saying ignorant things would be the worst part of his day, but as it turned out there was far worse to come. All afternoon a boy from the year above with a reputation for being something of a thug had been giving him the eye. Not just the eye, but the evil eye. It was disturbing to say the least, but when he mentioned it to his friends they just told him he was being stupid and nobody cared as much as he thought. He realised how wrong they'd been when he was walking down a flight of stairs to sixth period and he felt somebody shove him hard. His weak legs went from beneath him and he grabbed for the banister just in time to save himself from hurtling headfirst into the hard floor at the bottom of the stairwell.  
'What the fuck?' He spat, whipping round to meet the eyes of Jude Castor, the boy who had been staring at him all day. 'Shit.'  
He tried to leg it, but a gnarly hand yanked him back by his collar.  
'Where do you think you're going, little fag?' Jude snarled into his ear, making him freeze up in terror. This definitely wasn't looking good for him. 'I'd be doing you a favour to beat it out of you...'  
'Just let me go,' Yuri tried to sound forceful and threatening but it came out as more of a squeak. Jude shoved him hard again, this time smacking his head against the wall. He groaned and tried to run again, but Jude grabbed onto his hair and yanked at it, dragging him back and jabbing him hard in the stomach. Yuri doubled over in pain and at this moment Jude brought his knee up into contact with Yuri's jaw, making him yell out in pain as he was flung backwards like a rag doll being tossed aside. He pulled himself up from the floor and tried his best not to fall whilst Jude began to pummel at his face until his vision began to blur, partially from blood seeping into his left eye and largely because he could barely breathe after being winded so many times. He bit hard on his tongue to stop himself from crying because he got the feeling that if he allowed tears to permeate his eyes he'd make the situation worse for himself. As Jude relentlessly beat into him, he thought to himself with what was almost a sense of relief that this might just kill him. His body was so weak already that this could really be the end of him, and he was strangely glad. If he died now, he didn't have to face a slow torturous death as his organs failed on him one by one and he slowly turned into a rotted skeleton. This was the sole reason that he didn't try to defend himself; it never even occurred to him that it was physically impossible to win this battle anyway.  
'Get off!' He could barely make a noise anymore and his words began to slur as Jude kicked him one last knee in the stomach. The final blow came in the form of a kick to the face that connected with his cheek as he went down and made him retch from the pain. He succumbed to the numb sensation creeping across his mind and crumpled to the floor, curling into a ball and whimpering softly through the pain. He was in absolute agony and it felt like he'd been stabbed multiple times. He must have lain there in inextricable agony for at least half an hour before he heard what must have been footsteps. Voices floated down the stairwell and he was sure he could recognise one but the other eluded him.  
'Well, I just had to redo the module and then- Jesus Christ!' They exclaimed when they came across Yuri all beaten and bloodied. 'Yuri?'  
He moaned and tried to sit up, but hands kept him where he was.  
'Go get the nurse,' The voice he half-recognised instructed, followed by the sounds of footsteps retreating quickly down the stairs. 'Yuri, what happened?'  
'What do you think?' He mumbled, his voice cracking.  
'Who was it?'  
He pursed his split and bleeding lips and refused to talk. He didn't want news getting out about this. Obviously there'd be talk because he was aware he was going to be black and blue but he was keeping mum about it however much he was pressured to talk. Truth be told, he was humiliated. He'd have to tell the teachers why he'd been attacked and while for a short while he hadn't minded his friends knowing, being affronted like that had scared him off ever telling anyone again. He'd been blindly led to believe that there wasn't blatant hate in his world, but he had been wrong and this had cost him dearly. Now here he was, practically bleeding out on the floor. He knew he was overstating things a little and that he wasn't really going to die, however scary and life threatening the pain had seemed in the moment.  
'Please don't make a fuss over this,' He choked out, keeping his voice as level as he could manage- which was about as shaky as America's politics. 'It's nothing.'  
'Nothing? Try to stand and then tell me it's nothing.'  
Yuri blinked hard until the face swimming in front of him came into focus. It was just his luck that it would be Phichit Chulanont, the head of the student committee. Of course it was. Fortune did not seem to be on Yuri's side that day- or any day, for that matter. He tried to stand and Phichit rolled his eyes and held him down with a firm hand on his shoulder.  
'I didn't mean it literally,' He sighed. 'I need you to tell me who did this. They'll probably be expelled.'  
'I doubt it,' Yuri knew there were incidents like this relatively often at his school and there was very little recompense for the perpetrators' actions. It was the mandatory and frankly inconsequential three day suspension and then nothing. In more serious cases expulsion was brought up, but never put into effect. The school just didn't want to admit it had a problem with violence and, only occasionally but all too frequently, hate crimes. You only had to look inside a toilet cubicle to see the extent of harassment going on right under the teachers' noses that went largely ignored.  
'It's Yuri, isn't it?' Phichit interrupted him mid-thought train.  
'How do you know my name?' Yuri heaved himself into a sitting position, wincing heavily as his entire body was pincered by pain. He was surprised to say the least that somebody he'd never given so much as a thought to would know who he was.  
'You remember when you fainted? I get informed every times there's an incident concerning student welfare. Student committee, you know.'  
'Oh. So you know everything about that?'  
'Yes.'  
Yuri grimaced and tried not to think about it. This was another case of things he just didn't want people to know but that had gotten out because of his own ill-thinking and lack of impulse control. He opened his mouth to announce that he was going home, which was completely his intention after such a traumatic experience, but before he could speak the nurse showed up.  
'Christ alive,' She shook her head and squatted down beside him. 'You are in quite bad shape, young man.'  
'Shouldn't we call an ambulance?' Phichit was already pulling his phone out. 'He got hit in the head- he could have a concussion.'  
'The school doesn't need any more legal problems!' The nurse admonished him, regarding the phone with a wary gaze.  
'Seriously? I'm calling an a-'  
'He doesn't need an ambulance. I am a nurse, I know what I'm doing,' She stared Phichit down, unwavering in her opinion.  
'I don't need an ambulance,' Yuri agreed, nodding furiously and trying his best to ignore the horrific ache it brought him that made his mouth water and his jaw tense. The less faff the better in his view; if an ambulance was called the police would probably get involved because this was a serious safeguarding issue. 'I just fell down the stairs.'  
'Now, there's no need to be like that!' Phichit chided, scowling at him with a ferocity so intense he flinched.  
'The school already has enough of a bad reputation, I'm not going to damage that. I fell down the stairs, that's it.'  
'Well, if you're sure,' The nurse replied in a nonplussed way.  
'What?' Phichit was almost concussed himself by this terrible handling of the situation. 'But this is a safeguarding issue! He's been beaten up by another pupil and you're just pretending he fell down the stairs!'  
'If he's adamant that that's all that happened, I am obligated to believe him,' The nurse shrugged as if she was helpless. All three of them knew he'd been attacked, but two of them weren't willing to admit it.  
'And I'm adamant,' Yuri added. 'It's not even that serious. I fell down the stairs and just bashed my face a bit, that's all.'  
He gripped at the handrail and laboriously pulled himself up, his eyes screwing tightly shut and a gasp of pain escaping his lips.  
'I still need to administer medical care,' The nurse told him, but he was already making his way down the stairs.  
'I think I'm just gonna go home,' He answered with a quiet tone and continued to walk. They let him go, dumbfounded and both almost equally shocked by everything that had just occurred. The nurse was furious with herself for going along with the school's policy of avoiding the media's eye at all costs and Phichit was livid both that he hadn't done more and that the school was doing nothing. This was a crime- this was aggravated assault on a minuscule boy with anorexia. He had known some people in the school could have a tendency to be a tad cruel, but mostly fights broke out on equal terms rather than senseless attacks such as this- didn't even attempt to think that it might be a fight in this case- but he didn't think anybody could be this evil.  
It seems evil lurks even in the places we feel safest in for those who society has railed against for so long. 

Yuri did his best to sneak past his mum in the sitting room when he got home, but she heard him come in and his best ended up being not good enough- not much of a surprise there.  
'Yuri, is that you?' She called, switching off the TV, where she had been watching her favourite cooking show. 'You're home early, sweetheart, is everything okay?'  
'Fine,' He replied, hoping that would be the end of it and he could hide for a few weeks until all the bruises had faded. He hadn't looked in a mirror yet but he knew the extent of the damage from the way every part of his body was plagued by a dull ache that refused to go away. Already it was beginning to feel eternal. He'd never been beaten up before so physical pain like this was a stranger to him; the pain of starvation had seemed so strong until he'd experienced this. Unfortunately for him, his mother stood up and turned around to catch sight of him.  
'Oh god!' She breathed, followed by a whole chain of expletives. 'What happened?'  
'It's nothing,' He mumbled, starting up the stairs.  
'Yuri, did somebody beat you up?' She cried out after him and he tried so hard to ignore the waver in her voice. How much more pain did he intend to cause her?  
'I said it's nothing,' He repeated, dashing up to his room without another word so that she wouldn't see the tears spilling forth from his eyes. He slammed his door shut and pushed his desk up against it then threw himself onto his bed, groaning when the pain hit him like a wall. He curled up into his duvet and made himself a little cocoon of anguish where he could cry for a few hours until he eventually fell asleep, tearstained and tragic. First, though, he wanted to assess how much more hideous this had made him. He opened his phone and opened the front-facing camera. He looked understandably like pure shit. One eye was puffy and black, whereas the other was slightly green-tinted in the skin and the actual eye itself was red and blotchy-looking. His face was covered in bruises and small lacerations, most noticeably in the form of a jagged scraped down his left cheek where he'd been slammed into a wall and scraped his face against a badly placed socket. His lips were swollen and bloodied, his bottom lip split in two places and his top bulging at one side. He very slowly undid his shirt, wincing every time he moved his arms, and blinked at the bluish bruises blooming across his pale skin, creating a harsh contrast that only made them seem all the more grotesque. All this was a result of him having a boyfriend. That was it. An innocent photo posted in the spur of the moment and here he was, battered and broken. His fighting spirit had left him and he couldn't take it a moment longer. There was just one thing for him to do, something that would correct all of this. He picked up his phone and went straight to messages.  
'I can't do this anymore' He sent to Otabek. He would be fine; he could marry a nice girl and have some children and nobody would think any less of him. He wouldn't love her, granted, and he'd most likely be miserable for the remainder of his shitty life, but at least he wouldn't get beaten up. That was, if he lived to see the age where he would be getting married. He looked down and noticed that Otabek had read his text but not replied. He waited a few minutes to see if he was just typing a long heartfelt message, and for a moment he hoped it would be enough to vanquish his fears, but after ten minutes had passed and he still hadn't heard back he became irate. Did it really mean that little to him? Had it all just been a fun game for him- seduce a vulnerable kid and ruin their life? He was both apoplectic and depressed at the same time. He hadn't wanted to break up but he knew it was the right choice, however this didn't mean it made the decision any easier on him. He regretted it already and not getting a reply just made it seem all the worse. This was his first heartbreak and it was in such a terrible way; being his usual cowardly self and running away from something that made him happy merely because he was afraid.  
Twenty minutes later there was a knock at his door and he heard his mother's voice saying his name on the other side.  
'Otabek's here,' She announced and he just about had a panic attack.  
'Tell him to leave!' He gabbled, wrapping himself up tighter into his little duvet burrito. 'I don't want to see him.'  
'Yuri, it's either talk to him or talk to me.'  
'I don't want to talk about it!'  
'You have to.'  
'I'll talk to him through the door. Don't tell him anything. Please.'  
He heard her footsteps retreating and then a heavier pair walking up to his door. He tensed and braced himself for the harsh knock that followed.  
'Yuri, it's me,' Otabek said through the door. 'Can I come in?'  
'No,' Yuri was glad for the furniture he'd pushed up against the door so that nobody could get in. He couldn't allow Otabek to see him like this. It would hurt him too greatly to see what he'd indirectly caused. 'I don't want to see you.'  
'What happened?'  
'Nothing happened, I just don't want this anymore.'  
'And I respect that, honestly, but I'm worried about you. As a friend.'  
The word 'friend' hurt. Yuri wanted more than that. Otabek clearly wanted more than that. To revert back to how they had been before would be too painful now.  
'You don't need to be,' Yuri sniffed as the tears began to roll again. 'I'm fine, honestly.'  
'I don't think you are. Please let me in!'  
Yuri internally debated it for a few moments, his tangled innards fighting against each other. It was definitely a case of head versus heart, and since one of these things controlled his happiness he decided to push away the desk and sheepishly open the door.  
'Bloody hell,' Otabek's eyes widened dramatically. 'What the hell happened?'  
'I got beat up,' Yuri let him into his room and sat back down on his bed. 'Not fun.'  
'Who did it?'  
'You don't know him so-'  
'Do you know where he lives?'  
'There's the school directory but I don't see how-'  
'Do you have the directory anywhere?'  
'Umm, probably... It'll be somewhere in the house, anyway. Why?'  
'Yuri Plisetsky, you're probably going to witness a murder tonight.'


	18. Chapter 18

'You're insane, you've actually cracked, you- Jesus Christ, slow down!' Yuri gabbled, gripping at his seat. Otabek was driving to Jude's house, his foot practically touching the floor and his hands gripping the wheel so tight it looked as if he was about to wrench it off. His expression had clouded over and his eyes had darkened beyond belief. 'You can't just say you're going to kill someone and drag me along with you! That's- that's joint enterprise murder!'  
'You didn't have to come.'  
'If I just let you go I'd be complicit. I'd be, like... Aiding and abetting.'  
'I'll say I took you hostage.'  
'How romantic. Seriously, slow down or the only person you'll be killing is me!'  
With a great display of reluctance, Otabek eased up his foot by about half an inch. Now they were only going about twice the speed limit- not that it mattered much, because about a minute later he exacted a death-defying turn into a housing estate and Yuri sat in the car and watched him as he marched up to a door. He couldn't face going with him, even though he knew somebody was probably going to die given the look on Otabek's face. He sat in the car with his house key gripped in his hand, as if it would be any use in a fight. His other hand he kept firmly on the car keys so he could ensure it was locked should Jude run out armed with a knife or something. He knew he was overreacting but his fear was hardly unwarranted and after the events of the day his nerves were understandably on the jittery side. Not to mention he was afraid that Otabek would follow through on his threats and actually do something really stupid on his behalf. He couldn't very well say no because he was too shaken up, but he hadn't meant for any of this to happen. After a few pensive minutes the door opened and Yuri watched as Otabek practically dragged Jude by the ear down to the car. He wrenched open the car door and motioned for Yuri to get out.   
'I'm staying here,' His voice came out as a pathetic squeak. He couldn't face Jude, not after what he'd done. Just seeing his face for that half second had brought unwelcome memories flooding back from earlier.   
'Get out the car, Yuri,' Otabek sighed, gesturing again, and this time Yuri did as he was told.   
'I think this boy has something to say to you,' Otabek gripped Jude tightly by the collar of his shirt, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he spoke.   
'I'm sorry,' Jude blurted out, his eyes not conveying any apologies but his body language suggesting he was very sorry to be in this situation now. 'Now will you let go of me? Seriously, get your hands off of me before I call the police! It's not my fault your boyfriend is a freak, is it?'  
He spat the word 'boyfriend' with obvious contempt and Otabek, who had been on hisbest behaviour up until now given the situation, finally snapped. He slammed Jude into the car and leaned in close, pressing a hand against his throat as he writhed beneath him, not used to being the one pinned down.   
'Don't you ever fucking talk like that again,' He growled, and Yuri was scared himself even though the anger wasn't directed towards him.   
'Otabek, stop,' He stepped forwards to intervene but it was clear he wasn't done.   
'If you so much as lay a finger on him again I will broadcast your name to the entire world. The only reason I'm not killing you now is because I don't think Yuri would be very happy about it, and this is a lot more than a human shitstain like you deserves,' Otabek shoved him hard again then let him go. 'Now fuck off.'  
Jude gulped and stumbled away back home, his hands rubbing at his neck and his eyes wide. Otabek stared after him with a petulant fury in his eyes, his entire body trembling with barely contained anger. Yuri put a hand on his shoulder, not speaking just yet.   
'You were terrifying just now, you know that, right?' He finally said.   
'You have to understand that you can't spend your life being afraid of assholes like him. That's something you have to fight against, not run away from.'  
'Easy for you to say. You're not the one being beaten up.'   
'I know, I know. Point it, if you let them change you then they've won, you get me?'  
'Please don't give me that shit. It's not as if 'they' are some abstract concept. 'They' are real people who can and will hurt me.'   
'I know that's scary! God, do I know. The problem is if people like him start to think that they can get away with assaulting people and that it works they'll keep doing it.'   
'Okay,' Yuri conceded with a heavy sigh. 'I just got scared- am I allowed to get scared?'  
'Yes! Yes, of course,' Otabek wrapped him up in a bear hug, kissing the top of his head and rocking him from side to side. 'I'm not trying to gloss over what happened to you, I just don't want you to cause yourself any more pain than he did.'  
'I don't really want to break up,' Yuri muttered, wishing he had just kept his stupid mouth shut about the whole affair.   
'That's good, then. Had to admit, I was scared for a while.'  
'Now you've got your attempted murder out of the way, can you take me home?'

 

Otabek ended up staying late into the night, so late that Yuri's mother refused to let him drive home and set up a bed for him on the couch downstairs. Yuri complained a bit because he didn't want to be alone after the day he'd had, but his mum was insistent. He supposed it would have been the same with him and a girlfriend; she'd never let him sleep in the same room as a girl because apparently it was completely impossible to keep their hands from off of each other if they weren't the same gender. He waited until she was asleep and sneaked down the hall, his light frame no longer able to make the floorboards creak, and hesitated for a moment by her door. If she heard him going downstairs in the middle of the night she would undoubtedly know what he was doing and intercept him on his way. He listened in at the door and made sure he could hear her gently snoring away before the crept silently passed, not even daring to breathe. He gripped onto the banister as he walked down the stairs as if that would muffle his steps some, although he wasn't in any danger of waking anybody up. Otabek was asleep on the sofa and he could see his silhouetted form as he shuffled past the sitting room. He was lying on his side with his arm dangling off the edge of the couch, his face relaxed and soft. Yuri sighed and allowed himself to lean against the doorway for a moment longer before he shuffled past and into the kitchen, where he pulled out the softest foods he could find. He was under no illusions about the state of his body and even with his toxic mindset he knew he had to be cautious with how he proceeded. His brain yearned to be filled with food more than his shrivelled stomach did and it was this that caused these binging sessions where he crammed himself so full of food he didn't even have to force it back up again. Once he started he couldn't stop, so nowadays he often planned ahead for these binge/purge sessions with rigorous preparation. He forced himself to go days without food just for these moments of complete self-indulgence, only to tear himself apart from the inside out. He rifled through every cupboard and the fridge and freezer to find anything he could use to curb the overpowering cravings that were clawing at his mind. He sat on the floor surrounded by wrappers and plates and whatever the hell else he could find, just gorging himself. He couldn't even taste the food- it wasn't even for measure anymore. It was just a way to hurt himself further. It had started with just purging small amounts of food and thinking they were large portions, but now it had spiralled out of control into a mess of feasting and throwing up for agonising hours on end. It was beginning to feel as if he was stuck on some repeat cycle and he would never be free. He certainly couldn't stop himself from gorging on the food before him, forcing it down his throat with a compulsively reckless abandon. The worst part wasn't even the gut-wrenching ache in his stomach- the worst part was the guilt and shame he felt for his complete lack of control. The resistance he had built up to food was crumbling away in such a rapid fashion that he'd quickly become a disgusting mess of an excuse for a human being. He hated himself more than ever before, and the fact that he hated himself for eating at all- even when he forcefully expelled it all afterwards- showed that recovery was never going to be an option for him. Besides, he had a terrible relationship with food. Either he didn't eat for days on end or he stuffed his face and threw it all up. His jaw ached from chewing and he felt practically comatose from the amount of food he'd just shoved down his throat. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry, but he knew full well if he did that he'd end up digesting everything and become colossally fat. This was the sole motivation that drove him to haul his heavy body to its feet and stagger drunkenly down the corridor to the downstairs bathroom where he always purged so that his mother wouldn't hear. It slipped his mind that Otabek was just in the other room and would no doubt be woken up by the sounds of him retching and coughing his lungs out. He forgot that in the face of his stomach already turning and he barely even made it to the bathroom before he was vomiting. He gripped at the toilet seat as it felt like his throat was sliced by thousands of knives at once. Tears dripped down his face as he gagged and clawed at his own stomach in an attempt to force out yet more until it was just stomach acid and blood. Deep down he knew this was killing him, but deep down he also knew he didn't care.   
God, did he hate who he'd become. Believe it or not, he had been the happiest person on the planet just a short year ago. He had been the sort of person to have thirds if they so pleased and laughed at girls who dieted, throwing anorexia around like it was an insult rather than a terrible disorder that caused more pain than pleasure.   
'Why wouldn't you want pizza?' He had laughed with his friends, but now he wished he could scream at his past self that it wasn't about trivial things like taste. Every meal was a battle, every time he saw food he felt like clawing his own eyeballs out so he wouldn't have to, every time he breathed in the sweet scent of his mother's cooking he wanted to cry. He missed his young naive self, even if he had been disgustingly dismissive of how exhaustingly painful it was to go through an eating disorder, because at least he had been happy. He wanted to go back to a time when he had made his mother happy, bringing home good report cards and complimenting her food rather than her being dragged into his school every day to discuss his terrible grades and screaming matches when he couldn't bring himself to eat her food. Every now and then his mood would lift a little and he would manage something small and she'd be so supportive and excited that he would feel like throwing himself in front of a car for causing her to be so elated by something so banal as him eating. He had ruined her life- he was still ruining her life. She didn't deserve to see her son die. He hated what this disease had done to everybody else, not just himself. He longed for that happiness he had once owned and the light in his mother's eyes that was now replaced by a perennial dull worry. Every now and then his grandfather would drop by and be alarmed by how his grandson looked.   
'You need feeding up, boy,' He'd say, and his mother would start crying and then he'd run to his bedroom and have to listen to them arguing. His grandfather berated her for letting him get like this and she yelled at him that she was trying her hardest to help him but he was unreachable. Yuri hadn't seen his grandfather for a few months, and he was sure he'd be even angrier now if he saw how frail he'd become. Even he could see it. He could now wrap his hands round the tops of his thighs and his ribs looked like a keyboard. When he put his fingers around his wrist they overlapped by almost two inches. He could touch his index finger an thumb around his ankle.   
It was tragic that his worth came down to just these stupid measurements he'd created for himself. At first, his only goal had been to have a thigh gap. It had just been something silly at first, something to strive for. He had always told himself he'd stop after a few pounds- he wouldn't let it get dangerous. Just a little bit of weight loss for summer couldn't hurt. It had descended frighteningly quickly, as it almost always does in the case of dieting based on ideals such as he had inflicted upon himself, into an eating disorder. This had in turn spiralled into anorexia, and now with the way things we're going it was probably going to end in tears. Namely, tears at his grave. He was overtaken by a rattling fit of coughing that had him hacking up blood and trembling. He felt faint at the sight of the blood and had to lean against the wall, wiping his hands against the floor mindlessly. His eyes began to close of their own accord and he fought to keep them open, aware that he had a lot of cleanup to enact before his mother woke up. He heaved himself up and washed his hands off in the sink, where he was racked with another coughing fit and bright red blood spattered against the white of the sink. He washed it away and splashed water into his face until suddenly his stomach turned again and he was forced to crouch over the toilet as what had to be just water and acid by now burned its way up from his throat. The door handle turned just as he was recovering from this sudden bout of sickness and he realised all too late that he had left it unlocked. He scrambled to slam it hastily and refuse entry to whoever was outside and had obviously heard him puking his guts up.   
'Yuri, I'm coming in,' Otabek pushed hard against the door and forced entry. He looked tired and confused, but concerned all the same. When he saw Yuri cowering in a corner, blood on his shirt and the bathroom reeking of vomit and acid, he knew his suspicions had been correct.   
'Please go,' Yuri whispered. 'I don't want you to see me like this...'  
'How often does this happen?' Otabek fixed him with a steady gaze, not moving to touch him as he didn't think he'd be comfortable with that.   
'Never. Nothing's happeni-'  
'Be honest.'  
'Almost every day,' Yuri admitted, hanging his head in humiliation and shame. He was more embarrassed to be caught eating than throwing up. At least he was finally displaying behaviour typical of an eating disorder. He put the seat of the toilet down and sat down heavily. 'I'm a lot more fucked up than I'd have anyone believe.'  
'Come on. We'll get you cleaned up and in bed,' Otabek outstretched a hand, which Yuri took hesitantly and allowed himself to be led from the bathroom into the kitchen, where Otabek poured him a cold glass of water. He sipped at it slowly and tried to ignore the burning sensation in his throat as he did so.   
'I'm going to help you,' Otabek said this with a tone that implied he was very, very serious. 'I swear I mean it this time.'   
'I don't need help,' Yuri knew he sounded stupid saying this. He'd just been caught in the act of doing something that very obviously insinuated he needed help. He was just hesitant to say he didn't want it.   
'I don't want to say something stupid like you can talk to me, but you can talk to me,' Otabek reminded him, sitting down beside him and stroking his hair delicately. 'Because I'll listen. No matter how stupid you think it sounds.'   
'I- I'm sorry, I can't,' Yuri hung his head dejectedly. 'I don't even know what I could say that explains this. I hate it.'  
'I know, baby. I know.'  
For what felt like the thousandth time, Yuri began to cry in front of Otabek. This time the tears were silent and slid down his cheeks without purpose or even much of a reason. Otabek just held him and waited until the tears subsided to help him up the stairs. He sat him down and helped off with his shirt to put on a fresh one sans blood. Then he lay him down and tucked him in, kissing his cheek and leaving him to get some rest.   
'Don't leave,' Yuri murmured softly and Otabek couldn't dream of refusing him when he was as damaged as he was right now. He lay down next to him and did his best to pretend he wasn't panicking. He couldn't even put his arms around Yuri because he was reminded that there was nothing left to hold anymore. He was so emaciated that you couldn't touch him anymore without feeling a bone sticking out.   
'I'm not leaving, but you have to promise you're not going to leave me,' He whispered back.   
'What? I'm tired, I'm not going anywhere.'  
'I don't just mean now.'  
'Oh... I'm actually getting better, you know,' Yuri lied to make him feel better. It was plain to see how terrified he was and he didn't want to scare him off just yet. It was nice to feel less lonely every now and then. 'That doctor gave me some meds that are helping. I know it doesn't seem like it, but tonight was just a blip. Relapsing happens, right?'  
'Right.'  
'But I'm getting better. I swear. Look, you can even come with me to the doctor's this weekend if you want.'  
'I don't-'  
'I want you to. I hate it there.'  
'Then of course I will,' Otabek slowly snaked an arm round his waist, pulling him close and making him feel supported and protected.   
'They'll tell you I'm getting better. I've gained weight, seriously.'  
'Okay,' Otabek nodded, even though he knew it wasn't true. He half wanted to convince himself it was. 'Now get some sleep, alright?'  
Yuri sighed and nestled into him, but Otabek got the feeling he wouldn't be able to sleep as easily as the boy in his arms for a very long while.


	19. Chapter 19

Yuri's leg bounced uncontrollably the entire journey to the doctor's. He'd remembered a longer journey the first time, but he assumed it was just his nerves speeding everything up. His leg continued to bounce in this way right up until the moment he was called in to his appointment. Otabek sat with him and gripped his hand tightly for as long as he could, but he could only bring family members into the appointment and he didn't think Otabek could pass as his brother. His mother's expression of consternation mirrored his own troubled feelings as they sat down opposite the doctor. He couldn't even remember her name after the amount of medical professionals he'd been sent to.   
'Yuri, hi,' The Doctor smiled broadly at him, shuffling a few papers on her desk and slipped one sheet to the front, eyeing it up before she spoke again. 'We need to discuss the results of the blood tests and your other checkups.'   
When she appropriated the professional detachment required to deliver bad news Yuri knew it wasn't going to sound so good for him. He felt his mother tense beside him and he knew she had sensed this too.   
'Your heart is very irregular, though I'm sure you are aware of this already, but also your blood pressure is incredibly low and you are severely deficient in... Well, in everything. Your kidneys are showing early signs of failure- this is most likely what's causing the stomach aches you told me about. To put it plainly, I would estimate that if you continue to resist treatment you have a maximum of four months left to live.'  
He felt the air leave his lungs and his syncopated heartbeat slow down further. Why was he so surprised? He'd known for a long time this was probably going to kill him, but being given what was, in effect, a death sentence changed his perspective. He was well and truly dying and suddenly it felt very inescapable, making him almost regret the weeks he'd spent deceiving everyone at the clinic. Perhaps if he'd tried he might not have ended up where he was now, with everything he did being numbered. The days he had left were limited. Each time he closed his eyes it was counting down to the last time he ever would. Truth be told, he was afraid- in fact, he was terrified. He didn't want to die like this, in so much pain and feeling like he had wasted his entire life trying to achieve something as shallow as thin. What did thinness even award him other than a premature date on his gravestone and months of agonising? He barely even noticed his mother's tears. He couldn't think clearly and everything had condensed into a tiny bubble surrounding him. The doctor was still talking about alternative treatment and the medical help she could offer but he had tuned out the second she'd officially told him when he was going to die. He'd thought he had at least a year left of life- he had never thought he was that sick. He looked down at his thighs, their almost uniform straightness from top to bottom, and wondered how everybody else saw them. He could still see fat clinging with a vicious tenacity to his bones, but hearing that he was about to die put things in perspective with his dysmorphia. Maybe he wasn't as fat as he thought he was. Recently he'd even begun to think of himself as borderline underweight, but if he really was as large as he thought he was then there was no possibility of him dying. He could either deny that he was dying and claim that he was still as fat as ever or he could try to heal himself before his time was up. He wanted more than ever to get better now. As stupid as it might appear to an outsider who has not suffered at the barbed-wire hands of anorexia, this decision was impossible to follow through on. However much he might want to, it would still be unimaginably difficult to put food in his mouth and not throw it up just minutes later. He'd made so much progress, as sick as it sounded, so was he really willing to give all of that up, even if it meant it would save his life? Where had all his 'I'll die happy if I die skinny' bravado gone? He'd lived according to his own stupid rules for so long that he didn't know how to break them anymore. Even the little things such as playing football with his friends had become marred by his eating disorder- now all he thought about was how many calories he was burning.   
Still, the thought haunted him that he was dying. If he didn't choose recovery he was going to die in a matter of weeks, no question about it. Never again would he taste his mother's cooking or be able to hug her without her wondering if it was the last time. He looked across at the woman who had singlehandedly raised him from birth, giving him the best life he could have ever asked for, now trying her best to stay composed for him as usual. She had been the one holding his hand when he cried starting primary school, shushing him and telling him to 'go and be a big boy'. She had also seen him off to secondary school, when he'd refused to allow her to drive him in on his first day. She'd rolled her eyes but smiled all the same and fixed his tie for him (which he later messed up again so he didn't look like a knob). She had kissed every bumped head, bandaged every scraped knee, wiped away every tear until he'd begun to hide them. Now she had to drive him all across the country to find anybody who could help her dying son and she was at the blunt end of every judging stare he received, assuming her to be a bad mother. She had still loved him unconditionally throughout all of it and now he was taking away her only close family. He was murdering her only son. All of this said, she had never tried to understand why he was doing this- not that he knew himself, but it upset him nonetheless that she acted as if he was only doing to upset other people. The last thing he wanted was to cause anybody harm, although it seemed that this was all he was achieving at this point. He branched out from his immediate family to muse over who else would be affected by his death. His friends would probably cry and most of his year would (he hoped) go to his funeral. They'd have an assembly- they had when a year eight had been killed in a car accident when he'd been in year nine- where they'd talk about how much of an asset he'd been to the school and how much everybody would miss him. Undoubtedly they'd launch some big campaign against eating disorders and up awareness of the counselling services provided, putting up posters everywhere about how to spot an eating disorder and pretending they had no idea how severe his own was. A lot of people assumed blindly that since he was seeing doctors he was getting better. At least that way they made less fuss, but it was scary all the while to see how easily they could ignore it. All the overbearing mothers from school would most likely try to shove unwarranted advice down his defenceless mother's throat, telling her to do this and that even though they'd never lost a child, especially not to such a terrible thing.   
Above all of this, there was Otabek... He would be devastated, and it wasn't out of the question that he'd blame himself for not intervening more proactively. What he didn't realise was that he'd helped Yuri in numerous ways by just being around at some of his worst moments and passing no judgement, instead offering unconditional support. He had no idea how to tell him what he now knew- that he had just months to live if he didn't recover.   
'What you have to keep in mind,' The doctor continued, and this was the moment his mind drifted back to the real world. 'Is that he has a real chance of a quick recovery if he applies himself.'  
It sounded like he was studying for an exam, not trying to alter his brain to be less posed against itself and save his own life in the process.   
'You have many options, so I don't want you to feel like this is an ending. Anorexia is not a terminal illness, however bad it gets- there's always hope.'  
He didn't feel very hopeful. Four months to recover? He'd had far longer than that already and been given so many chances that now he was on his last one it was so tempting to give up completely and succumb to the grave that had been softly beckoning him ever since this had started.   
'Thank you,' His mother put a hand on his shoulder to signal that they had received their cue to leave. 'I'll talk to the receptionist about booking the next appointment, shall I?'  
'Please,' The doctor smiled again. Yuri had come to believe that this smile was meaningless, nothing more than a mask to cover an emotionless shell. 'I'll see you next time. Goodbye, Yuri.'  
'Bye,' He mumbled, trailing after his mum like a ghost. She kept a firm guiding hand on his shoulder, steering him back to the waiting room where his boyfriend was sat looking very pained and slightly hopeful. He took one look at him and he knew he couldn't crush that hope just yet. He could lie just a little longer.   
'I'll tell him,' Yuri whispered into his mum's ear in case he jumped the gun and blurted out everything they'd just been told.   
'How was it?' Otabek stood up, his hands clasped together.   
'Fine,' Yuri forced a smile, having to dig his nails into his palm to stop himself from tearing up. 'Let's go.'   
They settled into step together, Yuri making sure to walk faster than his mum so she wouldn't overhear the lies he was about to tell.   
'She says I'm doing well,' He kept his voice light and carefree. 'I've gained weight in the last week and my heart's much better.'  
'Really?' Otabek beamed and Yuri realised how stupid he was to be lying to him. It would only shatter his heart further in the long run. He couldn't turn back now; he would continue this deception to the grave, which certainly wasn't very far.   
'Yeah. I really am getting better.' 

'I'm just going to the toilet,' Yuri excused himself. They'd decided to stop at a service station on the way back so they could eat, and Yuri had been surprisingly obliging, agreeing to eat half a sandwich. Once he'd disappeared, Otabek felt more than a little awkward sat alone with his mum. He still often thought about how badly he'd fucked up taking Yuri to that party and how she had reacted. He got the feeling she harboured a little resentment towards him for it and he wanted to show her he was actually a good person and he was looking out for Yuri. It didn't help that she had been acting very shellshocked since they'd emerged from the appointment, though he couldn't imagine why as Yuri was slowly beginning to take the path to recovery.   
'I'm glad he's getting better,' He said conversationally, and her shocked expression made him frown. 'You know, gaining weight.'  
'That's what he told you?' Her voice was quiet and her tone oddly apologetic. 'That he's getting better?'  
He nodded, tilting his head in confusion.   
'He lied. He was given four months to live.'  
'What?' Otabek felt the world fall away. He couldn't comprehend what he was being told- Yuri was genuinely going to die. In four months, apparently. In four months he would no longer be able to talk to him or see him or hold him in his arms. Four months was a laughably short time. Suddenly he realised that if Yuri wasn't recovering there was a very high chance that he wasn't just going to the toilet. Come to think of it, he'd been gone quite a while.   
'I'm gonna go check on him,' He stood up quickly.   
'I wouldn't bother,' Yuri's mum shook her head sadly. 'There's nothing you can do about it now.'  
'No, but I can comfort him.'  
'I think he needs the time alone.'   
He didn't agree, but since she was his mother he left it and waited until Yuri returned, eyes red-rimmed and sore looking, although from crying or purging Otabek didn't know. To put a long story short he looked like crap. He didn't know how he'd been taken in by his lying, but thinking a little harder he realised he had wanted to be deceived. He hadn't wanted to believe that the person he cared about most in the world was being torn from his fingertips before he even got the chance to know him properly. Underneath all of that, he was also incredibly insecure that if Yuri wasn't getting better then he wasn't enough to help him. He wanted to be needed. Could he be any more self-indulgent, and at such a cost?   
He waited until they arrived back at Yuri's house to mention anything, which also gave him the time to absorb what he'd been told and think about what he wanted to say. He didn't even know if he could bring himself to say anything, but nonetheless he followed him upstairs to his room and folded his arms across his chest to stop them from hitting at everything within reach in frustration.   
'You lied to me,' He accused, and Yuri went deathly pale. It was plain to see now that he had just weeks left with the way his skin was so shallow that when the blood rushed from his face it was hardly noticeable.   
'About what?' His voice emerged quiet and trembling. Otabek could tell he already know what this conversation was concerning.   
'You're dying.'  
'We're all dying, just some quicker than others.'  
'You're dying quickly.'  
'To be honest, I think we both knew I was going to die.'   
'Why are you giving up?'  
'Is there any use in fighting it anymore? The doctor said I'm dying. There's not much else I can do.'  
'Don't you give me that bullshit! There's so much you can do, you just refuse to try!' Otabek lost his temper and his voice rose without him meaning for it to do.   
'Seriously? Are you really telling me I'm not trying? You try understanding what it's like to have an eating disorder! I can't help not wanting to get better when every time I look in the mirror I want to rip off my own skin and every time I eat I feel like I deserve to die because I only have value when I'm losing weight!' Yuri screamed back, tears springing to his eyes.   
'I know it's hard but-'  
'No, I don't think you do. It's not just dieting. I can't just stop at any moment because there's no limit to how much weight I want to lose- at first it was just a few pounds, then it was a few more and a few more and now I'm going to die in four months and all I can think of is how people will finally believe I am- was sick.'   
'Nobody doubts you,' Otabek was shocked that he could even think anybody disbelieved him for even a second. He didn't have to breathe a word and people would know just by looking at him that he was on Death's doorstep. 'Just like nobody will think you're a fraud for recovering.'  
'I can't help feeling like they will. I feel like if I start eating again I'll just keep gaining weight until I'm huge.'  
'And so what if you were?'  
'Why can't I just eat and not gain any weight?'  
Otabek didn't mention that he basically already was, save for the fact that he was throwing up everything he ate.   
'Your weight is actually the physical problem, not the food,' He explained. 'Why don't they just hospitalise you?'  
'They did, remember? And it didn't work.'  
'I mean a proper hospital where they can tube feed you and stuff.'   
'Because this is a private doctor and they can't force me into anything.'   
'I don't know how to help you,' Otabek confessed, the words heavy in his throats and causing him to choke up. 'What the hell am I supposed to do?'   
'Hell if I know,' Yuri scoffed, wiping the tears from his face and attempting a smile. 'When I die, you should give my eulogy.'   
'You're not going to die.'  
'Sure. But you should start writing one just in case.'  
Otabek couldn't even believe they were having this conversation, much less how glib Yuri was being about it. He was only sixteen- he should be worrying about GCSEs, not who was going to deliver the eulogy at his funeral. How was it fair that he even had to think about his funeral at all at this age? Otabek thought back to what he'd been like as a sixteen year old. Headstrong, independent and wild were three words that sprung to mind. He'd somehow fallen in with a bad crowd for a while and had gone through a phase of teenage rebellion and caused his parents abundant worry when he'd come home in the middle of the night drunk and stinking of smoke. Thankfully that had only lasted a few weeks and he'd quickly become bored of that scene and moved onto rugby for a while. His main worries had been his grades and revision, not his impending doom. It struck him that life was brutally unfair and callous to do this to somebody so undeserving who had once been so full of life and far more cheerful than he was now.   
'I don't want to die,' Yuri suddenly whispered, dissolving into tears and sinking to the floor. 'I don't want to be me anymore... I'm sick of this!'  
Otabek slid to the floor beside him and put an arm round his shoulders to comfort him.   
'I won't let anything happen to you,' He swore, and he meant it.   
Later, looking back on this moment he just wished he'd been able to keep his promise.


	20. Chapter 20

A month passed and then another and it seemed like nothing was changing or getting better. The only positive that could be taken from the situation was that he didn't seem to be getting any worse either. Otabek saw him most days, and every time they would have the same argument about eating that would end in tears (usually Yuri's, although a lot of the time Otabek would end up crying with him) and then they'd make up and Otabek would forget to make Yuri eat, too distracted by his distress. Today was no different- Yuri had refused dinner while Otabek had been around and they'd fought viciously over it for about half an hour until Yuri had thrown himself into Otabek's arms, where he was now sobbing inconsolably. Today was different, though, because Yuri hadn't even been able to drink any water. He said that he was afraid to swallow in case there were calories in his mouth.  
'I thought you said you wanted to recover,' Otabek muttered, more afraid than ever before with this new development.  
'I did. Now I think that's scarier than dying,' Yuri confessed through his tears. 'I'd probably kill myself, so I die either way. At least this way I die knowing I wasn't a quitter.'  
'For Pete's sake,' Otabek growled, letting go. 'I'm so sick of you treating this like an achievement.'  
'I'm not! I'm just trying to make light of a really shitty situation.'  
'It's worse than shitty- you know that, right?'  
Yuri scowled and sat down on his bed, crossing his arms across his chest stubbornly and ducking away when Otabek tried to hug him. He didn't want to be touched. He was having a terrible body image day and it felt like the fat was crawling across his bones like maggots, making his skin itch so much that he wanted to tear it away. His new doctor had been trying to convince him that he wasn't fat through pointless exercises such as making him draw an outline of how big he thought he was then standing against it and the doctor would draw around him to show the contrast. There had been a massive difference, but that was hardly surprising given his body dysmorphia. His true outline was still massive anyway. The doctor spent so much time convincing him he wasn't fat that he had begun to go insane- perhaps it might have worked if they'd concentrated their efforts a little more on teaching him that his size didn't matter. He'd rather they addressed his ever-approaching demise rather than his dysmorphia. Despite his inability (for want of effort) to recover, he still maintained the view that he'd rather remain alive. He knew he couldn't have the best of both worlds but dying felt like the lesser of two evils in this case. It also seemed like a more viable option to end his suffering than recovery, since he doubted he would ever be comfortable with himself. Could he really commit himself to all the pain he'd face in the future of looking back at old pictures of himself at his current weight (his lowest ever) and wishing he could be back like that? Was skirting death really worth such a dismal future? He knew he'd done enough lasting damage by now to his internal organs that regardless of whether he recovered or not his life would be considerably shortened. To put a long story short, it was either die within weeks or wait it out and give himself false hope for a future he could never have. What happened if he got even closer to Otabek? That would only break his heart further. And what about his mum? If she thought he was better just because he'd gained weight only for him to die of later complications that would tear her apart. If he died sooner rather than later it would mean everybody got over their grief quicker and could move on with their lives. If he died as a teenager he had basically nothing to lose- no children, no partner, no job. Also, everybody was expecting him to die so they'd be relatively mentally prepared for what lay ahead. He was in the best position to die, statistically speaking. He didn't explain this to Otabek because he knew he'd just get angry and refuse to understand where he was coming from. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone- he was trying to think in their best interests.  
'Can we just go five minutes without talking about me dying?' Yuri suggested, doing his best impression of puppy dog eyes to persuade Otabek.  
'Fine,' Otabek sighed, so easily taken in. Yuri allowed him to manhandle him into a cuddle, sighing softly and closing his weary eyes to rest for a while. 'Let's talk about something else.'  
'Sure. What have you been doing aside from being my guardian angel?'  
Otabek smiled at the expression he used to describe him and it took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts together so that he could reply.  
'Seeing friends mostly. A lot of them are doing exams right now so I actually spend most of my time with you.'  
Yuri had been taken out of school indefinitely and all of his exams had been cancelled. That week had been the start of GCSEs and he was missing them with the promise of a resit at one point as accommodation for chronic illness. It was laughable that they thought he'd be around for a resit. He supposed the school was in crap enough a position that they'd ignore him being physically battered by another student in the hope that it would avoid bad press, so they certainly wouldn't care much about his health until he died and they could capitalise off of it to gain the support of the government to invest in them. He thought about other cases of people his age dying- usually their parents made a charity. Would his mum make a charity? She might need something to take her mind away from the grief. She was already taking time off from work to take care of him and he felt more than a little guilty since he was going to die soon anyway- she'd probably end up losing her job, but he didn't think she'd want to work after he died for a while. Was there such thing as bereavement leave? He remembered when Otabek tightened his arms round him that he was supposed to be forgetting about his impending doom. It had just become such a part of his life that he couldn't go more than thirty seconds without thinking about something to do with his anorexia, and even then it was always niggling at some corner of his mind.  
'Sorry. Zoned out- what were we talking about again?'  
'What I do in my spare time, but it wasn't very exciting.'  
'Hmm. Then tell me about what your life was like before you met me.'  
'Less eventful in some ways, more chaotic in others,' Otabek didn't mention how he had travelled all the time because he had nothing tying him to one spot. Now he was too afraid to leave the area in case Yuri suddenly took a turn for the worse (or, god forbid, died) and he didn't make it back in time so pay his dues and say goodbye.  
'Did you have any boyfriends before me?'  
'Ooh, previous partner talk? Now that's serious. Never a boyfriend, although I dated a few people casually. Girls, boys, others...'  
'Oh? Would I know anyone?'  
'Rafael, actually.'  
'Yeah, explain that one to me,' Yuri had picked up on a weird vibe between them right from the start- seeing them kissing had highlighted it, but also Rafael's talk of being sullied had struck a chord with him and it had lain quite forgotten at the back of his mind up until this moment.  
'I dated his sister for a while and he tried to split us up. At first he thought he was just being protective then he realised he was into me. His sister never forgave me for that.'  
Yuri giggled, very much entertained by this anecdote.  
'Okay, that's past lovers sorted out,' He teased and tried to find a new topic. 'That leaves... Oh, you told me once you have family in Kazakhstan and you promised to tell me about it.'  
'Right. I mean, you can kind of tell I'm not British. My parents both emigrated from Kazakhstan four years before I was born. They were piss-poor to start with, but then my mum made it kind of big in event planning and my dad's car hire company took off a few years ago.'  
'That's pretty cool. My mum's just a typical mum. She was born in Sheffield and moved here because of her job.'  
'What's her job?'  
'She's a chef.'  
'That's pretty cool, too!'  
'Not really. She just works at a restaurant.'  
'That's why she makes really good food.'  
'Yep, though I haven't tasted it recently.'  
And just like that, the conversation returned in its cyclic progression to Yuri's eating disorder. It seemed every thought of his revolved around it. He had to move on quickly before he started to get too into his head again.  
'What do you want to do with your life?' He knew it was a broad question and he was hoping it would elicit a very long answer so he didn't have to think for a good while.  
'Jesus. I don't know... I've always wanted to go into helping people, but that's not an actual job and I didn't get the grades to be a doctor. I'm going to study economics at university.'  
'Why didn't you tell me you were going?'  
'I'm only going to Reading University, don't worry.'  
They both ignored the elephant in the room, namely that it was irrelevant because the way things stood Yuri wasn't going to be around for when Otabek went. He'd been given a maximum of four months, meaning he had about eight weeks at most and even then there was the possibility that he could die at any point. It was just a waiting game now. There was no use in thinking at all about recovering now that he thought about it because it was unlikely he could get better in time to save himself. It would take months of intensive therapy with the right person to persuade him that food was edible and then a good while until he was eating properly again. He refused to be tube fed and the doctor had decided it was a bad idea since he was so adept at purging that he'd just worsen the state of his threat. Her genius idea had been supplementary drinks and very calorie dense foods, but he was wise to his mum's tricks to get him to eat by now and he hadn't eaten at all in the last five days. His binge/purge sessions were getting less and less frequent as the chronic fear of food began to settle over him again, warding him off. He didn't have a hope in hell of saving himself, whether he wanted to or not. Regardless, he was trying to pretend he was normal and that he was going to see his boyfriend off to university.  
'I can't wait to go to uni and get myself into crippling debt,' He said, trying to lighten the situation with a little humour.  
'Two years' time. That's all you have to last.'  
'I can do that. I'm going to go on for years, just you wait.' 

 

Yuri was taken to hospital two weeks later, although more to accommodate him until his time was up, and by that point there wasn't much they could do for him. The doctors called it refeeding syndrome. Basically, his body was so unaccustomed to food that it rejected it. It made him violently ill and for another week he struggled on in pain, barely coherent most of the time and borderline comatose the rest of it. He was essentially there for palliative care, as much as everybody hated to admit it.  
Otabek spent most days at the hospital, watching over him- just like his 'guardian angel' as he'd said that one time- or going on coffee runs for his mother. The poor woman was distraught. It was plain to see things were over for Yuri and the doctors had already spoken to her about the pretty much inevitable eventuality that he would die. Every now and then a friend from school would visit and hover awkwardly at Yuri's bedside, never sure what to say or do. They usually just left a card or a teddy bear and rushed out with tears in their eyes. None of their grief drew anywhere near parallel with the confusing cocktail of emotional hell Otabek was going through, however. Watching Yuri slowly decay into a skeleton for months had taken it out of him so that now he could barely even muster enough energy to talk. Sometimes his own friends swung by his house to check on him, most of them having guessed something was up from the silence at his end of the phone. He'd been neglecting his social media for a long time and his followers had noticed- he had what seemed like hundreds of comments and private messages asking if he was okay. He didn't have the energy to reply to them so instead he posted the occasional grim picture of a cup of coffee or a building to reassure everybody that he was still alive. Today, though, it seemed that the fog had lifted from Yuri's mind. It had been a week since his admission and he was finally sitting up, blinking slowly at his surroundings and glaring cross-eyed with vitriol at his PEG tube. When he saw Otabek his expression changed to one of joy and shock.  
'Hey,' He croaked out, his voice cracking painfully. He had a terrible throat infection from all the time he'd spent clawing at it with his fingernails and the acid that splashed against it as a result. 'You've been here a long time.'  
'So have you.'  
'Don't worry. You'll be able to leave soon,' Yuri smiled wearily, gesturing to his emaciated frame. He honestly looked so frail he could be a ghost; his skin was stretched taut across his bones, barely held together. 'I don't know if anybody's told you, but I'm dying.'  
The strain on his body that something so simple as talking for a few seconds brought had him panting with exertion and he collapsed back against the bed.  
'Don't say that,' Otabek pleaded with him, desperate for something to change. 'There's still a chance, there's still-'  
'Shh. I'm going to die, but that's okay. I hope you've finished that eulogy.'  
Otabek smiled through the tears that were now staining his cheeks, standing up and leaning over Yuri to brush his hair from his face. It had once been so thick and luxurious and one of his favourite things to do had been to run his hands through it. Now it limp and thin, much like Yuri himself.  
'I actually think I'm going to die today,' Yuri surprised him by saying.  
'Why?' Otabek choked out, unable to take it in. He refused to believe it.  
'I don't know. I can feel it.'  
'I'm calling a nurse. No way are you dying today, it's not-'  
'It's my time.'  
'Stop talking like a wise old man! You're sixteen, you can't die yet!' Otabek was too afraid to leave his side so he pressed the emergency button, at which point a nurse hurried down the corridor towards them. This was the moment when everything began to go a bit pear-shaped. She saw that Yuri's vitals had dropped dangerously low and instantly called in a doctor, who administered drugs and did this and that, none of which really helped. Otabek was forced from the room, but he stood outside and watched through the glass as the doctor and nurses stood around looking aggravated. At last one of them emerged looking apologetic. Yuri's mum, who had just dashed to grab the coffees, rounded the corner and saw that there was a commotion of some sort. She dropped the coffees and ran over, her eyes wild and her hands grabbing frantically at her unbrushed hair. Suddenly Otabek flashed back to when he and Yuri had met. It had been this same hospital and he'd been drinking the same coffee Yuri's mum had just dropped in her haste. Back then, he'd been disconcertingly thin, but he hadn't been dying. Looking at him now, Otabek wouldn't doubt he was sick. Back then he had believed him when he'd said he was fine. Everything had changed so quickly that it felt like it could be the same day and if he went to the cafe now he'd bump into an eccentric blond who would take him on a detour round the hospital and make him lost for the second time. Unfortunately, he was trapped in real time and was forced to listen to what the doctors had to say.  
'Ms. Plisetsky, I would recommend that you say your goodbyes now,' The doctor said this with an apologetic tone as if it was somehow his fault. One of the nurses was crying and Otabek couldn't blame her. Seeing a mere child practically killing themselves would be heartbreaking for anybody, professional detachment or not.  
'Oh god,' Yuri's mum wailed, not hesitating to flurry through the doors to shower her son with affection. Otabek followed in her wake considerably quieter, deep in depressive thought. How could he say goodbye? What could he possibly say that would make any of this okay and not leave him with thousands of regrets? Evidently, he didn't have much time left to construct his farewell speech because Yuri's eyes were shut and he was so pale he almost blended into the sheets he was lying on.  
'I want-' He tried to speak but it came out as a death rattle. He had to take a few deep breaths to manage to get it out. 'I want to go outside.'  
'Absolutely out of the question,' The doctor stated. 'You would be in terrible pain and I'm afraid it may kill you.'  
'I'm about to die anyway,' Yuri whispered, clenching his fists weakly. 'I want to go outside and hear the birds, just one last time.'  
'I can't let you do that,' The doctor shook his head. Yuri's mum looked from her son to his boyfriend, then back to her dejected looking son. The only thing she could ask for now was that he was happy in his final few moments upon the world she'd stupidly brought him into. Whether it was with her or not was up to him- it was his life and he could choose his happiness. She was firm in the knowledge that her love for him wouldn't waver at all based on any decision he made.  
'Could I have a moment alone with him to say goodbye?' She looked at the doctor and he nodded, stepping outside into the corridor to give her some space. Otabek went to leave but she called him back. 'Will you- will you take him outside? That's what he wants.'  
'Are you sure? The doctor said-'  
'Please,' Yuri wheezed and Otabek couldn't refuse him his dying wish, although he wished himself that it could just be a plain wish.  
'I'll distract them. Just go,' She sobbed, her hands shaking as she pulled out the wheelchair they'd been using for the short while that Yuri had still been mobile. They unhooked him from countless wires and machines and loaded him into the chair, Otabek trying to ignore the fact that this brought it full circle to when they'd first met. Yuri's mum easily distracted the doctors by asking them questions and Otabek was able to sneak quickly away round a corner, racing for the lift at the end of the corridor. A shout went up behind him and just as they spun round to face the doors of the elevator as they closed they could see doctors and nurses galore honing in on them. In a last act of bravado Yuri flipped them off and stuck his tongue out. They got to the ground floor and Otabek ran with the chair, dodging patients and doctors like mad until they made it to the doors and rushed out into the street.  
'Shit,' Otabek cursed, not knowing which way to turn.  
'Left, left!' Yuri cried and Otabek veered left, continuing round the back of the building until he spotted a field. He somehow manoeuvred the wheelchair into it and parked it so that they were obscured by a hedge.  
'Holy shit,' He gasped, both of them panting heavily and laughing from the exhilaration of their high-speed chase. 'What is it with you and running away from doctors?'  
'What is it with you and making me want to?' Yuri retorted, his cheeks tinged slightly pink, the first time they'd shown any colour in weeks. He was grinning madly and Otabek knew they'd made the right decision. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes, offering Yuri one.  
'What, you're actually letting me do something today?' Yuri teased, his voice louder than before and Otabek was almost hopeful with this sudden cheer. He knew deep down that it was just the adrenaline and Yuri was still minutes from death but his naive and youthful heart still relished the chance to hope.  
'I don't think one will kill you,' He shrugged as he lit them both up, inhaling deeply on his own and blowing the smoke skywards, watching as it rose in tendrils towards the sun.  
'I do agree it might be a bit late for that,' Yuri took his and took a drag that sent him coughing painfully. 'What now?'  
'You wanted to hear the birds.'  
'I mean, do we just wait until I die? Strange really, now I'm sat here I couldn't care less what I look like. Funny old thing is life. I thought I'd die quicker, bit awkward that we have to wait.'  
His sentences weren't really linked together and Otabek could tell he was beginning to fade. His heart raced harder and he felt a cold hand of terror grip at his throat, forcing him to say the things he needed to say.  
'I'm sorry,' He choked out. 'I let you down; I made promises I couldn't keep. I swore you'd get better, but here we are.'  
'I don't mind,' Yuri mumbled, dropping the cigarette and looking up at him. 'Will you give me a goodbye kiss?' He was masking it as best as he could, but he was in unspeakable agony. His entire body felt like it was falling apart and he knew all his internal organs were failing at once. Otabek was crying uncontrollably now and he felt hugely guilty for causing all of this pain. He realised with a pang that he hadn't even said goodbye to his mum. He wanted to hug her and cry into her arms again like he was a little kid, but gone were the days when she could kiss it better and cover up his scrapes with a Spider-Man plaster then send him on his way. He started crying now, sniffling away as Otabek crouched down in front of him.  
'Get me out of this stupid chair,' He croaked and Otabek did as he was told, pulling Yuri out and onto the ground with him. For a while they sat silently with Yuri on his lap, nuzzling into his chest and breathing in his comforting scent for what he knew was the last time.  
'I don't want to die,' He sobbed, repeating it over and over again and realising how true it was. He was absolutely terrified. 'I want to get better! But it's too late for me now. I'm never going to get better.'  
'Shh, it's okay,' Otabek whispered into his ear, stroking his hair and trying to send him to sleep quietly. 'You're okay. I've got you. You're just going to sleep. When you wake up, it'll just be another day and you won't be thinking about food at all.'  
'We'll go on a date,' Yuri's voice was quieter again.  
'Yes, we'll go on a date.'  
'By the river,' He was barely audible now and Otabek could barely speak past the lump in his throat.  
'By the river,' He repeated. 'And you'll get an ice cream and I'll laugh at you because you'll get it on your nose.'  
'And we'll kiss,' His words were undetectable apart from the consonants now.  
'Definitely. Then we'll watch the sunset and I'll tell you how much I love you.'  
'Do you really?'  
'Yes. I love you so much.'  
'Don't be stupid. Love can't save me now.'  
And just like that, he was gone. The blond boy from the hospital who had shouted at him, the boy who had kissed him so bravely, the idiot who had cried because he hadn't wanted to have sex, the boy who he'd danced with on a sofa, the first person he'd fallen in love with was no longer. Otabek clung to his lifeless body with desperation, screaming at him to wake up but receiving no answering breath or pulse or any such sign of life. He was well and truly gone. His restless soul had passed on to wherever it is people go when they die. The vessel that had once contained it was now empty. Yuri Plisetsky no longer existed save for in his memories. Never again would he taste his metallic lips or hear his cackling laugh or fall asleep with him warm in his arms or- he couldn't think any further. It was like his mind hit a wall and refused him any semblance of thought. He was pure numbness and nothing else. How had his life come to this? One second he'd been dragging Yuri round London and the next he was clinging to his corpse. He took a deep shaky breath and gently laid him down on the grass, kissing his cheek one last time and picking a wild flower from the hedge that hid them and tucked it into his hair. A few seconds later the doctors finally found them and there was a burst of chaos, but Otabek was strangely calm throughout. The body being loaded onto a stretcher wasn't Yuri Plisetsky anymore. Yuri lived on through glimpses and snapshots of memory. He'd see him here and there in the grin of somebody else, in the way somebody else howled with laughter in the same way. Everything was left with traces of him, and Otabek chose to believe that this was his way of being a ghost. There was evidence of him in every corner of the earth and Otabek was desperate to preserve those memories so he'd never miss any of it. Yuri was finally free of the disease that had tortured him for so long and knowing this came as a small relief to him. He'd never again have to discover him passed out in a pool of his own vomit and blood again. Never again would he be forced to listen to that dreadful cough that preceded his presence. While the best case scenario would be that Yuri had survived, he knew that it had never been all that likely. He had been unreachable in the end because he had been failed somehow. Somewhere along the line something had gone wrong and he'd never gotten the help he had needed. It seemed to Otabek that the way to atone for this great failure was to do something about it. He finally knew what he wanted to do with his life- he wanted to follow his passion and help people. In the memory of Yuri Plisetsky, he was going to save everybody he met from themselves.


End file.
